The Diaries of an Enigmatic Manipulator
by Andrea Churchill
Summary: The title says it all. Meet Ms. Blair, one who goes on an 'extraordinary' adventure, involving a rogue, a spy, a scientist, a hunter, a vampire, a beast, and an immortal...
1. An Encounter

The Diaries of an Enigmatic Manipulator

A League of Extraordinary Gentlemen fanfiction

Disclaimer: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen comic and the LXG movie I do not own. My own characters, and any aspect of the story that involves or is changed by them I recall my own.

England, June 1899

Today was quite…interesting. Like any other day, I was alone in my chambers, writing intently, when I heard faintly a knock at the door downstairs. Not wanting to be perceptibly heard, I closed my journal with mind, lay my fountain pen on the side, and got up from my beautifully velvet chair. Nearly tipping my toes across the wooden floor boards, I came to the door that led to the top of the staircase, opened it carefully and slowly, and peered down to the door.

The knock came again. This time, more hastily. As if there was a time limit to speaking with me.

Sprinting down the stairs in only a few swift motions, I had come to be at the bottom of the staircase with caution. I must say, I was hugging the wall ever so desperately. I peered around the wall to the door, only to hear another knock. I was…frightened, for lack of a better term. What I was afraid of I cannot say…perhaps I was weary of being taken again?

I felt like I could almost see through the blasted thing—my instincts told me the person behind the building's door was harmless. And yet, I had a strange feeling for this introduction…

Trusting my subconscious persuasions, I creaked open the door—only to find a meek, but seemingly commanding man and his…could I have labeled trainee?

"Good evening Ms. Blair.", he had said.

My mind automatically switched to caution. How had he known my name? What else did he know of my nature?

"May we enter the premises?" he continued.

The question had caught me off guard. Instead of giving me the time to deliver a reply, the two men simply entered my home. How dare them!

"Forgive my intrusion, Ms. Blair…but we come as representatives of Her Majesty's British Government."

Oh dear…the Government? How, and in what way, had I done harm to an assemblage such as that? I know, of course, I have had my faults with certain communities of doctors and the occasional scientist, but a member of the Government? In what possible way had I caused them to enter my home on such short notice? The feeling was so…terribly guarded! If they had made any uncertain moves then, I could almost swear I would have sprinted away right then and there! And yet, my curiosity had succeeded me to remain calm…in which I can now almost thank.

"Allow me to introduce myself," the docile but authoritative man started as the other looked out upon the streets of London, right to left, then closed the door. Their actions were becoming more and more disbelieving to my watch. I was ready to dash for it.

"My name is M, and this here is Mr. Sanderson Reed…"

I did not dare to glace at the orange haired, well dressed, suspicious looking man known as Mr. Reed. My eyes had not been taken off his superior…and, might I add, they have not yet done so…

"Why M…?" I almost whispered, continuously read to assail when required. His expressional response was sly…confident, almost.

"Identification surely, something I'm sure…you know much about." was his reply. And so, I realized, he knew much more about my recognition than realized. And when, in my opinion, one knows about your classification enough, then one knows enough to understand. And so, I let my guard down…but slightly.

"Yes…" I said. "Why then, M, have you come to me?" I felt no need to address Mr. Reed. It was M who was of importance…not his…_adolescent _of inferiority.

"Surely your reputation is not clearly…untainted, however it is noticeable."

"Yes, I recall."

"We are searching for a team…of unique individuals…"

"_Searching for a team_ in order to do what?"

"…to contest the danger which now poses against the world."

I sauntered to the right a bit. "What threat?"

Were they…asking for my partaking in the situation?

"There is great unrest…"

"Yes. If you require seeking a team of individuals to combat a threat against the world, I would assume there is great unrest." I snapped. "What, exactly, is the _great unrest_ regarding?"

"Ms. Blair, please. War is arising…"

"With everyone…?" It was hard to imagine a war composed of every nation striking at its neighbors and allies…having no one at its side…

"Precisely; a world war..."

"And you believe a team of individuals may stop this threat? My apologies, M, but how may someone such as myself help stop a war concerning billions of people—"

"The threat which arises this combat will be further discussed at a meeting…within the quarters of London's British Museum with the entire team, at best hope. Now if you agree to act as much as attend this meeting—"

"And what, may I ask, is being offered in return for my contribution?"

M chuckled, which made me stiffen slightly. I was weak upon my toes—being required to help prevent a world war was not in particular a part of my repute.

"I thought you would ask that."

Had he now?

"Freedom…"

My mind…fell at ease, but replied dazed at the same time.

"Pardon…?"

"Freedom…from all the doctors, the scientists, the individuals whom once thought it best to take you down, and deplete your discoveries…"

"And how do you, sir, have the right to give me such a thing as that?"

"Let's just say…the world will never be the same once having a taste of your share."

The way he said that…the way he had said that sentence…made me quite the uneasy one standing in the room. But he would not get me so quickly.

"I'm still not convinced."

M sighed. Mr. Reed continued to simply stand next to his superior, simply…just…_there_…as if he was a token of service if needed, and nothing more. It was a bother to me.

Before M could start again, I cut him off unintended.

"But why me…?" I whispered, more to myself than him. I simply could not believe that one such as myself was needed for such a situation! What did I hold that was needed so dearly?

"Please, Ms. Blair…"

"Fine..." I stated. "I've been in need of an adventure. But do I not have the right to back out at any time I wish?"

"I would supply as much." he replied, tranquil now.

I was not sure why, of me…of all people, simply said 'yes' to a situation such as this. I have long hidden away from the world, but not long enough to be desperate in getting myself into a powder-keg-of-an-organization. Is it natural for me to want the glory of being a hero, known to save the world from war? Is it natural for me to be brave, and trust a strange man like M? I did not trust M, I can say that much, nor did I trust Mr. Sanderson Reed. However, just because I did not trust them, does not mean I do not like them. I myself can never be trusted—therefore, trust shall never lead to disliking.

As M bid me good luck to a safe trip (for I insisted I would walk—the Museum was only a few blocks away from my residence), promised a further explanation at the meeting, and walked out the door with Mr. Reed at his tail, I just simply stood there; broad with awestruck.


	2. Fear of the Big Sleep

The Diaries of an Enigmatic Manipulator

A League of Extraordinary Gentlemen fanfiction

Disclaimer: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen comic and the LXG movie I do not own. My own characters, and any aspect of the story that involves or is changed by them I recall my own.

England, June 1899

What does one pack on such a trip? Clothing, utterly, but of what kind? And lasting for how long? Will food be supplied and other necessities; beauty products, daily essentials? Otherwise, out of wise decision and instinct, I had packed a week's worth of clothing and some essentials in my valise. I believe I remember M mentioning something about the luggage being transferred by another member…that I did not need to worry about it. Something or other…I simply do not know what to do! Oh, why did I agree to this uncertainty; a group of people to stop a world war? It's all so baffling; and why me…who are the others? I would certainly like to find out soon, though! In one word to sum it all, I must choose 'mystifying'. The way M and Mr. Reed just came in and asked my assistance with no large sum of detail just pains me! I just hope these other members have the same emotion as I…

The other thing that had crossed me when the men left was the preparation I would need! Now, call me wise, but I am no expert at the martial arts! Or use of weaponry for that sort! I could only imagine the danger I would be getting myself into…I can picture my fellow alliances now; militaristic, knowledgeable of weaponry and forceful use. Harsh, daftly ignorant…I cannot bear it. I fear I will drop out of this endeavor before any harm has been done.

Otherwise, I must practice.

I hold weapons, I do, however I've never found the need for them to be of use. I carried my father's old crossbow, flare gun, and several spears. They were locked away in the depths of my home, and I do not intend to be using those weapons to defend myself. But what shall I? Guns and swords, certainly not… Perhaps they require me for other purposes? Not every member of the group is definite to contain experienced fighters! Yes, that's right. And still I fear if I don't review what I know, I could find myself in grave danger.

I shall review what I believe are to be my best traits for this undertaking:

My intentions are well. I can easily uncover anonymity faster than plenty of misguided people.

I hold useful organization and stratagems. I am able to make swell plans, positive to work in a straightforward manner.

I have plenty of knowledge. That must count for something.

Although, as I mentioned earlier, I have no swell experience with weapons or martial arts, I am swift. I can defend myself when needed, within hope. I have done it before, plenty of times might I add, and here I stand. I have not really thought about it, but I've noticed a pattern—every time I feel to be in danger, it's as if a switch has turned on, alarming my animalistic instinct to defend. An initial reaction, might I say. Perhaps an experienced alliance of mine can teach me a few ways to additionally preserve myself. I shall remind myself to ask whomever I feel I am able to learn from.

I must say, it took me a while to discover this extra trait, however it is but obvious! Many periods in my life have I been able to influence the enemy! Deceiving the opposition in many ways, I have been able to escape from various situations! A persuader, am I. Well…perhaps not in such an entrepreneurial way, but more as if I was an enigmatic manipulator.

That, I hope, is enough for me to survive this endeavor for it is all I can afford. However, I fear it is my confidence speaking these exaggerated traits, with the desire to let me believe I am to stay alive; perhaps…perhaps not.

Oh…but no I cannot think in that manner! I shall keep hope to stay alive, that my spirit can forgive this wretched mind of mine to agree to such a case! Otherwise, if this is goodbye, dear world; how can this be the last life to live…just one light coming down from the heavens, it's a goodbye—it's life's double time! Not even out of my regret to come back home and see my past again, my voice is fading; goodbye dear world, for I shall fall into the big sleep!


	3. Sherry & Giggles

The Diaries of an Enigmatic Manipulator

A League of Extraordinary Gentlemen fanfiction

Disclaimer: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen comic and the LXG movie I do not own. My own characters, and any aspect of the story that involves or is changed by them I recall my own.

England, June 1899

I must confess—I had brought upon me some of my father's old weapons. Not the excruciatingly unbearable ones, such as the massive wooden bow, but some of the smaller artillery. I had, just in case, brought with me some of the extra chemicals I've used back then; the heavier forms. Just a few bottles, I thought, could be used as part of the arms for defense. Just a few, I thought…

It's been raining all the morning. I believe it to be raining for the arranged meeting at the British Museum, and yet I shall walk.

It was quite better than I had expected. The bottom of my skirts became wet, but this was no problem. I arrived from my home in Soho to the museum in but a few minutes. The building was more massive than I remember…quite gloomy in this weather, might I add. I couldn't even remember the last I've seen of this edifice…a few months, possibly. Or has it been years? I cannot say; I've lost track…

Mystified by the sight of the nightly structure, I crept up the steep steps, only to meet the very Mr. Reed at the door. He spoke:

"Good evening, Siyana,"

"Good evening, Reed. May we stand here and have a little chat in the rain or shall you lead me to the meeting inside?"

He gave a slight smile, I thought. "Of course…follow me, Ms. Blair." I believed him to think me impatient; which, in some cases, I was.

He led me down the main halls to a flight of stairs, in which followed down, quite far down, to a set of double doors. They were black, engraved with a strange type of symbol…almost like a 'V' a toped with a geometrical compass, in which the letter 'M' was on its head. M for the superior I've met earlier, I suppose?

He opened the doors, in which revealed several bookshelves. The room was lighted, and from the corner of my eye I had seen a man standing there. I heard him speak…a Scottish accent, perhaps? He was speaking to another man…in whose voice I recognized as M's.

Silently as I could, I crept into the room unnoticed, to my thanks. I hid behind an adjacent bookshelf by the door, listening before I made my entrance identified. I felt the uncertainty and intensity within the room…so it wasn't me, after all, who had felt strange of the meeting. This man's voice was not ruthless…elderly and rough, possibly, but not ruthless.

I heard another's voice in the conversation as well…it was serious, and with an accent seeming to be from somewhere in the Middle East.

I heard as such:

"Rumor has it that you're a pirate," the elderly man spoke. A _pirate_, I thought. Why! I shall be meeting a very pirate! I believe he must have been speaking to the man of the Middle East.

"I'd prefer a less provocative title…" he answered. I huffed, but silently. Well of course he would! Who would prefer a title as such…but yet, I should not speak on the subject…

"Oh, I'm sure you would!" the elder man responded. Why, he had taken the words right from my tongue!

M interrupted. "Gentlemen, please…nations are striking at nations. Every attack marked by the use of highly advanced weaponry. These attacks are all the work of one man, who calls himself the Fantom."

This is where I leaned in to listen, hopefully not much to make myself known. The Fantom…hm…sounds costume-like, I thought. A daft disguise of a name! And why all the attacks? I was so curious to enter myself to the conversation!

"Very operatic," the elder said. "What's in it for him?" This man and I must share the same mind, for we greatly think alike! I was beginning to enjoy this alliance. The pirate I was a little worried about. I've heard of such the things they do…

"Profit." answered M. "Those machines are his creations, the very work of scientists he holds imprisoned. His attacks have nations clamoring for the very weapons that assail them."

How _monstrous_! Holding scientists and…and _using_ them like that! Oh, it was a good thing to accompany myself in this position! I am rightfully ready to fight for the scientists, I must say. I've had my deal of science…for a time being, as a scientist myself, I can only imagine how excruciating it must be to have someone…_steal_ your work! Oh, how I was enraged already! And I, Ms. Siyana Blair…enraged? Oh, such irony! And then, for these nations to be desiring "they very weapons that assail them", that I quote of M, must arise then the topic of—

"Then it's a race for arms," said the elder. And I couldn't have said it better myself.

"And millions will perish." said the pirate. He said it so…so _seriously _as well! It's as if he enjoys the idea…or, unless, he simply wanted to make a point of the significance of the job.

Then M finished "There's one last chance to avert war—" And I was alerted.

"The leaders of Europe are to meet secretly in Venice."

Are they now? That was…almost strange. For what purpose?

"And you believe that this Fantom…will attack that conference?" finished the elder. Well, obviously.

"If he can find it." Obviously he must know where this conference is…?

"We need a team to get to Venice. This team consists of seven members."

Oh, I must be one of the seven! I must say, I was proud to be a part of this small group of importance! And so is this what the job was for? To prevent a man from attacking a conference in Italy? This, then, must be the breaking point of the upcoming war—and therefore, if we can stop it, no war. Ah yes…now I see.

"You'll have four days." finished M. Four? From England to Italy? Pah, it was nothing! I could arrive at Italy within hours if I had—

"Four days to get to Venice? It's impossible!" the elder slightly chuckled, and I wondered if maybe our minds were all so the same after all…obviously he does not have the…_experience _as I.

"Let me worry about that." replied the pirate. Oh…I was now beginning to switch sides, I see.

I heard the other man's mumble. It almost sounded like, "Well now, extraordinary gentlemen indeed." Yes…yes that would make sense. I believe it was that.

I then heard M's voice again. You know, I do like the sound of his voice more than the others. Then the pirate's voice came next, leaving the elder last. M's voice was just so…intriguing! And the pirate's was so…strong and grave! His accent was interesting as well, I must say. The elder's voice was just too…gruff.

I was beginning to like listening in like this.

"One of them is late,"

I gasped…silently. It was me…I know it.

"Harker, the chemist."

I released my breath. No…it was not me referenced to.

Then I heard a new voice…it was peppy, with a Cockney accent. Well, Cockney accents tend to be peppy otherwise. He spoke:

"Oh, chemist eh? Do we get to blow something up then?"

Oh, this will be a _treat_ to work with. The next few words, however, were baffling…until I found out the truth in them:

The elder spoke first, after a hesitation in the room. "My eyesight must be worse than I thought!" Oh yes…an elder he was. Then the new voice spoke again,

"No, your eyesight's fine."

I heard a 'slap' sound, then a grunt. Then, after a slight pause, I heard then the sound of a chair against the floor.

"No games, M…" said the elder. Oh, if only I knew the men's names! Oh…which just made me realize…how many women…exactly…are in this group? Then I listened some more…in which I heard another chair move, and M's voice.

"Some time ago, a talented…albeit misguided man of science…discovered the means to become invisible."

Mr. Griffin! He was speaking of Mr. Griffin! What could Mr. Griffin have to do with the discussion…?

"Yes I recall the tale…but didn't he die?" spoke the elder. Oh, how dare he bring up the horrid tragedy! And then, which angered me even further, is what the other man said.

"Well he did, but his process didn't. You see I stole it, and here I stand for all to see!"

Wha—_what_? He _stole_ Griffin's formula? He _stole_ it? I was destined to go and---oh…wait…if he stole the formula…then…_then he must be invisible as well_! I thought, then, of the irony in "and here I stand for all to see." Well, Mr. Not-Griffin, more like there you stand for all _not_ to see! Oh, I just cannot believe he _stole_ it! What a _fool_! What a baffling _fool_!

"Is this some parlor game?" replied the elder, completely un-amused and misbelieving.

"_Believe_ it!" said the Cockney accent. Just then I heard a clanging of metal. Had he hurt him? I was also kept aware that my good pirate's hadn't spoken in quite a while…was he simply bewildered enough not to speak? The invisible man spoke.

"Easy now, Allan…"

ALLAN! But, Allan who? Well at least I have a first name! It was good enough for me! So far, I have M, pirate, Allan, and Mr. Not-Griffin/Invisible man, and myself within the room.

"I'm feeling a bit of a draft in my nether regions…and I must say…it's quite refreshing." Mr. Not-Griffin continued.

Pardon…? I must say, invisible man, you seem to be quite the handful. It shall be fun to be alongside this character! Ha!

"Allow me to introduce myself!"

Here we go.

"Rodney Skinner, gentlemen thief!"

Certainly so, Mr. Skinner.

"Now…I thought invisibility would be a boon to my work. Well you can imagine, it was my undoing. Once you're invisible, it's bloody hard to turn back."

Obviously, Mr. Skinner. '_Go on!'_, I thought. It was all so intriguing! Whomever is to read this diary, I must say! You must have been there!

"We finally caught him." I heard M's voice say.

"And they'll provide an antidote…well, that's _if_ I'm a good boy." he said. _'So that was the catch'_, I thought. He joined this group to get an antidote. I must say, it was quite brave of him to be open about it. I wonder what the catch was for all the other members.

"And are you a good boy?" asked Allan.

There was a slight pause. Then, "Well I guess you'll find out…won't you?"

Much confidence, I see.

Just then, I must have fainted from my startling alliance. Walking through the doors on the north wall of the room came to be a woman! Was this the late Harker? And where were the others? There were seven members, did M say not? And with the members here, and I, there were only five! Where were the other two?

"Am I late?" her sweet but dark voice had said. She sounded a bit heaving, really.

"A woman's prerogative, Mrs. Harker…" said M. And, as an initial reaction, my mouth dropped. Excuse me? A woman's _prerogative_? My, I found that offensive!

Allan grumbled. "Please tell me this is Harker's wife…with a sick note!"

"Sick would be a mild understatement," she said. "My husband's been dead for years."

Well! That's enough to shut _me _up! But oh no, he continued with his complaints, the gruffly Allan…

"Gentlemen, Mrs. Wilhelmina Harker." introduced M. Wilhelmina Harker…where have I heard that name before…?

"Mina's prior acquaintance with a reluctant league member…may prove useful."

I was about to leave that very moment. They were using her. And they could be using me too. Damn these stereotypical men! They are all the same! And yet, I was continuing to enjoy the thrill of M's voice…there was something in his tone…all so fascinating! And mysterious, the man was! All so curious!

Allan's voice spoke, annoyed (what else?).

"I'm waiting to be impressed!"

Then, M spoke once more to my ears. It was then for me to face him again. He had sighed, impatient.

"And…we are pending for the last member to this gathering; _with any luck_ if she can arrive _on time_ we can make our way to recruit the others…"

"_She?_" said Allan, as I coyly sauntered my way out of the bookshelf. How rude, the man. And I saw him for the first time, along with the other three members, and M, seated. Their stares were agonizing. And strange creatures they were…

'Allan' must have been the elderly man at the far end of the long conference table in the room. He had short white hair and beard, a slightly colored moustache, and wearing brown a white buttoned up shirt, and everything else brown. Brown pants, brown scarf, brown jacket…seriously, the man needed color! Oh, I laughed in my mind…I am but a woman!

'Rodney Skinner' had obviously been the odd looking one—the floating black leather trench coat, black leather gloves, and mass of white cream to make seen an invisible face. He, certainly was odd…

'Wilhelmina Harker' was the woman, clearly, with long brown hair, a face of well bone structure, a long, black velvet coat and red scarf, and a black velvet hat complete with a lacy black veil at its front, covering her face. She seemed all too dark to me…all too dark.

The 'Pirate' was simply splendid in sight. His beautifully blue suit and designed silver armor was certainly a sight to see—a matching blue turban embellished a silver nautilus shell, in which gave off a white feather. He had a long, thick black curly beard and moustache, hiding his dark skinned face. And a beauty he was! I was very much beginning to like him…_very much_.

"I—um…" I found it hard to find the words to speak. Did they guess I was spying on them, nonetheless, I was to be a part of the exchange anyhow…

"Glad of you to join us, Siyana."

"I suppose I should have taken a carriage." I found it difficult to smile…my guests were all still staring. Was it my dress…my hair…my frame? The pressure was all too unbearable! I had broken down!

"M…I do believe we have both made a great mistake, I do not believe I am qualified to—"

Just then, M got up from his chair, took his papers, scrambled through them while walking towards my direction, found the paper he needed, and handed it to me. He went back to his seat. I, simply, stared at him, baffled. What were these papers? I looked through them…for there were several different papers…notices, documents, reports, but what was the meaning? What was I to look for? What was I…oh.

I looked up to M, close to tears. He smiled. I ripped the pages. I could see the league eye me. But I didn't care. I knew why I was here. I knew what I was fighting for. How I could fight. Not only was I free, but I had something more now. Something much more.

M spoke, for the last time I would hear of him that night;

"Gentlemen please—the fate of the world is at stake. There are still two more members to recruit. The clock hands turn, gentlemen."

"Kicking us out already, a moment ago it was sherry and giggles!" Mr. Skinner said, as he turned up his collar and walked out of the room.

_No, Mr. Skinner_, I thought. _No it was not_.

A/N: Do you like it so far? Let me know.


	4. Arousing Suspicions

The Diaries of an Enigmatic Manipulator

A League of Extraordinary Gentlemen fanfiction

Disclaimer: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen comic and the LXG movie I do not own. My own characters, and any aspect of the story that involves or is changed by them I recall my own.

England, June 1899

After the meeting, the "league"; Allan, the Pirate, Mr. Skinner, Mrs. Harker and I, broke away from the dark staircase and eerie halls of the British Museum. It continued to pour outside, as I heard through the walls. The four accomplices of mine didn't seem to make chatter with each other; the uncanny air between all of us was quite uncomfortable. I could feel the skepticism in Allan, the earnestness in the pirate, the mystifying yet mocking spirit of Mr. Skinner, and the tranquil, but grim mood Mrs. Harker. I believed, unfortunately, that my aura gave off a feeling of caution and fright.

As we made our way to the entry doors to recruit these other members and meet the black, rainy sky of London without conversation, a few of the members took out their umbrellas, and Mr. Skinner retrieved his container of grease paint and covered the rest of his face. He showed every crease and every line upon his invisible face—a smart way to do so, I thought. The invisible man regained his glasses as well—small, black oval tea shades to hide his missing eyes, and put on his hat.

As Allan and the others opened the doors, we once again met the gloomy rain—it poured down upon us, beating our umbrellas oh so fierce! And, as we descended the wide staircase to meet our transportation, our eyes gazed upon one of the most magnificent things I have ever seen in my entire life.

It was a strange, pearly white and silver device, set upon six, perfectly round wheels—four in the front, two in the back, and with beautiful embellishments of silver and chrome; inscriptions of Hindu gods and goddesses, which, therefore, I assumed it to be owned by the pirate.

My gaze was described by awe, for the device could not be described its beauty.

"What in God's name is that?" I heard Allan say.

The pirate replied, "I call it an…auto-mob_ile_."

Hm…interesting!

"Yeah, but what is it?" asked the mocking tone of Mr. Skinner, the now-partially-invisible man.

"The future, gentlemen…the future." The pirate defended his creation.

And indeed it was.

"This is my first mate," he then pointed out. Having a first mate seemed more like a Captain sort of thing rather than a Pirate's. The term 'Captain' came to mind at first, really, so when the man had said, "I'd prefer a less provocative title…" to being called a pirate, I could assume then, that 'Captain' is what he preferred. So, he was a Captain to me.

I didn't even realize the man standing beside the car, though. At first glance I thought he was another admirer, for there were several citizens gazing about the "auto-mobile". He was of a rough appearance, dressed in simple seafaring attire. He spoke,

"Call me Ishmael…please," and with a gesture, he guided us within the contraption. I must say, I was confused as to how to get inside the dear thing, but I followed the others as a metal door was opened by Ishmael, and Mrs. Harker and Mr. Skinner filed in. The pirate entered in another door next to the one opened for Allan and I.

I was brought inside first, insecurely plopping myself atop a _very_ comfortable, smooth type of seating next to Mr. Skinner. Allan bumped next to me, and closed the door. I had already felt claustrophobic.

Ishmael circled the auto-mobile and entered from another door, sitting next to the pirate. They, both, were in front of us, and I seemed to retain the mood of…fault, almost. This was the pirate's invention, and we were unsuspecting, trapped in the back and smooshed together, as Ishmael began the device and rode off.

It was not long before the silence was unbearable, and someone had to speak.

"So…how did M get you?" Mr. Skinner asked me.

I was dumbstruck—didn't know what to say. I stumbled upon my words quite a bit, before I was able to say, "He…he came to my home with an accomplice of his. He convinced me to attend the meeting and participate in this endeavor."

Mr. Skinner didn't give much of a reply, but instead stretched his neck past me and to Allan.

"And how did M get you, Mr. Quatermain?"

Quatermain…Allan Quatermain. Huh…I don't recall the person's name. Although, here is where the conversation got a little ill-tempered...

Mr. Quatermain looked displeased. "None of your business…" he replied.

Mrs. Harker stretched out her neck as well, to view Mr. Quatermain.

"You're a little testy, Mr. Q." she spoke.

And Allan made a grave face, stretched his neck to meet the woman's eyes, and seemed ready to defend himself.

"Mrs. Harker I doubt if you measure danger…the way I do."

"And I imagine you with quite the library, Mr. Quatermain. All those books you've must have read, merely by looking at their covers." She faintly spit at the word 'covers'. And I agreed with the woman…men shall not simply think of every lady as hopeless and frail…although most women are, unfortunately.

"I've had women along on past exploits—and found them to be at best…a distraction…" he tested back.

"Do I distract you?" Mrs. Harker's tone was very…innocent and inquiring.

"My dear girl, I've buried two wives and many lovers…and I'm in no mood…for more…_of either_!"

I found that foul. But, of course, I was cheered by merrily Mr. Skinner.

"Well you can send them my way if you li—"

"Skinner…? _Shut up_." said Mr. Quatermain.

Oh, but I could not hold back a snicker.

No more sound came from anyone's mouth the rest of the ride, and we arrived at the East London Docks, I believe. The auto-mobile stopped in front of an old, eerie loft by the sea. We were all to get out, and meet our newest member. It was not raining anymore, as I gladly thanked, however my mood went back to obscurity by the sight of the home. It was not that bad, but it gave of a certain puzzling feel, and was closed off from the rest of the homes in the area. I wondered '_Who was the occupant?'_ restlessly.

We got out, and Ishmael called, "Shall I wait, Captain?"

And the Captain said, "No…bring my lady to me."

Shall there be another woman within our league? Oh…no, I believe the Captain was referring to his ship. How daft am I!

Just then, as we approached the loft, Mr. Skinner said:

"This is a charming spot…" with quite the hint of sarcasm. "Does Jack the Ripper live here?"

Ha! I couldn't help but snicker at that one, too. The invisible man heard my reaction, and gave me an appreciative smile for being amused to his fault. Jack the Ripper, eh? The strange murderer that has been rummaging around England for quite some time now, killing innocent women and leaving them dead upon the streets? (I couldn't bear to hear another warning from my mother to watch myself at night and keep away from strange men like news-obsessed Jack) But, oh I would hope to meet this fellow, if he is indeed our next recruit! How interesting to meet such an equal…!

But, as Mr. Quatermain gave the door a few strong knocks, my excitement had expired from sight of the not-very-Jack-the-Ripper-looking-character who eyed us through the door's window. After viewing us with suspicion, he slowly had opened his door, and as I made my way past my associates to see more clearly his face, I could see he was not whom I wished.

He dressed in perfect English attire—a grey pinstripe suit, ruffled top and pearly black shoes. He sport a long, black hairstyle and a goatee, all hiding his peculiar eyes as of watching us with a bothered, serious look.

"Good evening." he spoke with a tone just…eerie!

"Mr. Dorian Gray?" asked Mr. Quatermain with serenity.

"I am indeed."

"We come by way of M."

Mr. Gray seemed amused. "Ah…M for mystery." He then became serious. "Well I told him and I'm telling you—I'm not interested."

Just before he was about to close the door, Mrs. Harker, to my surprise, made herself known and spoke,

"Dorian…"

"Mina?" Mr. Gray's eyes lit up with surprise as the rest of us did, and Mrs. Harker made her way into the loft, the rest of us following her behind.

Following Mr. Dorian Gray, the league and I ascended a few sets of metal staircases, calm and taking in the—

"Charming décor," Mr. Skinner finished my thought.

Soon enough, though, we met ourselves a wall with immense paintings—nearly every inch was covered in a beautiful portrait of a woman or so, besides one space centered by its surrounding works of art, portraying a stain upon the wall where yet another painting was once hung. The stain gave me the impression that the painting was old, and had been there a long time. Mr. Grey must have sold it, or any other reason to his lack of collection. Mr. Quatermain had noticed the same thing, for he pointed out,

"You're missing a picture, Mr. Gray."

"And you don't miss a thing, do you Mr. Quatermain?" he replied, in an annoyed sense.

"Oh, sometimes…" Mr. Quatermain then grumbled, in a more hushed tone.

Ascending the last staircase, we came upon a beautiful room—it was surrounded by extremely tall bookshelves covering every inch of wall for nearly two stories, and decorated with the most finest paintings, rugs, tables and chairs. A fireplace roared in the back, and Mr. Gray made his way to the chair nearest to it. The league spread out inside the astoundingly gorgeous home; Mr. Skinner immediately making himself at home by attending to a small table holding bottles of liquor.

"Scotch, anyone?" he asked, taking off his hat, revealing an invisible spot upon the back of his head, and pouring himself a glass.

"Please…help yourself." Mr. Gray spoke.

"Don't let it ruin your makeup." Mrs. Harker snapped, passing Mr. Skinner with her chin up high. In return she was given a look by a very pale and surprisingly expression.

As Mr. Gray spoke, I must say—there was something about his tone of voice, much like M, that interested me. It gave a mystery behind words—a persona that was nearly waiting to be discovered, found out, or revealed...and I could not wait to do so. I crept behind the league's conversation with Dorian, and searched among the bookcases which interested me so. My hand swept along the spines of thousands of books, stopping when a title caught my eye:

_Mirror Motives—the Narcissistic Resistance to Time and Nature_

I took it off the shelf, reading its contents whilst I heard the conversation progress:

"I'm impressed, Mr. Grey—you take Skinner's uniqueness in your stride." spoke the Captain.

"Yes, well I've seen too much in my life to _shock_ easily."

_Haven't we all_…, I thought initially.

"Although, I must say I was surprised to see _you_ again." I heard him say. He must have been talking to Mina, for I wasn't watching them but the contents of the book.

_Interplay between timeless beauty and developmental arrest shall lead one to give his soul away to the dominance of a powerful self-regard… _

What did this man do, exactly?

"When our last parting was such sweet sorrow…" replied Mrs. Harker.

"Oh…so you're nothing more than an enticement. Nevertheless…your presence intrigues me."

Ah, here we go. A dramatic love story is on its way, I see. This _shall_ be interesting to witness.

I looked up from the book and to the league, ignorant of my reading and Mr. Skinner indulging. I turned my neck to face him, and to my surprise he was looking at me, too. For how long he has been watching me read, I do not know, but we exchanged smiles before I decided to continue in its interesting contents. The conversation played on, as well…and I listened. It distracted me a bit from my reading.

"They say you're indestructible, Quatermain." spoke Gray.

Really…I was interested to see this man in action, now.

"Well…a witch doctor did bless me once; I had saved his village. He said…Africa…will never allow me to die."

"But you're not in Africa now." said Gray. I thought the exact same thing.

"No." I heard a hint of sadness in Allan's reply.

Then Captain spoke, "I confess a curiosity as to what the files say about Mr. Gray."

So do I, considering his reading list gave quite an interesting philosophy.

"We, all of us, have traits useful in this endeavor; a hunter, a scientist, even Skinner has stealth."

_Excuse me? _I looked up from the book. What did _I_ have, then? He had failed to mention me, and yet, I know even to me my being here was a mystery. I do not blame the Captain for not knowing exactly my purpose in this endeavor. Those files, however…they cleared a lot up for me. Their importance evicted my suspicions.

"What have _you_?" he asked Gray.

"I have…experience."

Well don't we all have experience! At the least, then, the Captain could have spoke of me with an obvious ideal such as that, if our recruits can be as simply vague as Gray had been!

But what Mr. Quatermain said next had ordered my defeat.

"Gray and I have met before—many years ago, at Eton College."

"A lecture no doubt—you, the nation's hero, Dorian, the eagerly listening boy." offered Mina. And then,

"Quite the reverse—it was Gray visiting Eton…and _I _was the boy."

Immortal! How very curious! And I must say, his form of character gave quite the accent to his ability! The book made sense, almost…

Just then, Mr. Quatermain quickly retrieved his gun, cocked it, and looked above him to the second story, above the many tall bookshelves. I began to put away the heavy book.

Mina got up from where she was sitting, I watched. She seemed alarmed. "What is it?"

Rodney Skinner and I exchanged quick, cautious glances before I watched as dozens of gunmen surrounded us, above from the second loft, cocking their guns in our direction. All the gunmen—focused on shooting each of us—one across the room I viewed, who stared _me _down, the tip of the gun aimed at _my_ very face. My alarms, my caution, my excitement—all arose within that very second; keeping me at the same feeling when visited my M and Mr. Reed. Ready to take flight, I knew however that could not be the case this time—not only did I not have the ability to do so—any form of movement will result in my head blown off—but I was a part of the league now. I had to fight. I had to defend. I had to take down our very enemy that I heard pace at the top of the staircase, just a few feet away.

As I hugged the bookshelf that held the mysterious novel, I thought:

_Oh dear…this is not good...not good at all._


	5. A Frightening Discovery

The Diaries of an Enigmatic Manipulator

A League of Extraordinary Gentlemen fanfiction

Disclaimer: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen comic and the LXG movie I do not own. My own characters, and any aspect of the story that involves or is changed by them I recall my own.

England, June 1899

"Gray?" asked Mr. Quatermain.

"They are not _mine_…"

"They are _mine_!" I was terrified of the voice above me. I had to carefully wander from under the staircase to the rest of the league, the gunman following my motions, to see our man. I swayed toward Mr. Quatermain, behind him, really, and stopped in utter horror of our opponent.

He stood tall and proud, weighed down by a long, scraggly looking black-gray beard and hair, hiding revolting scars and wounds behind a silver mask, opening much space around his right eye, nose and mouth. The mask had within it plastered a horrible expression—stitched brows and weary eyes, giving me utter disgust for the poor man. What had happened for him to have the many disfigurements; enough where he must hide them? He had on a plate of decorated silver armor similar to the Captain, and a heavy fur coat, giving the impression of a Russian-Mongolian style. He grasped a long black cane, in which the head was a small, silver skull. The man's accent, however, sounded of Germany. Quatermain spoke,

"First meetings usually warrant introductions."

Like we couldn't tell who it was already; The Phantom.

"Of course…I am the Phantom. You are…the league of so called _Extraordinary_ Gentlemen. Introductions made." His voice was scruffy and brusque…not intriguing like M or Dorian Gray, but strange to my ears and uneasy. I held my breath I was so frightened. I felt light, at that very moment, ready to make a run for it…

The Phantom began to descend the staircase.

"Oh, and, I'm _scarred_, Mr. Quatermain, not _blind_…_drop the gun_."

And he did so, unwillingly.

The Phantom continued to descend the staircase towards us, and I felt lighter…more prepared to flee. He continued:

"Your mission is to stop me. That, of course, I cannot permit. So I give to you all a one-time invitation: _join me_."

Why…join him? Simply he must be joking! And yet, it would be so easy, wouldn't it? Must every bad character ask their foe to join in on their vice tactics? Honestly, it does not sound to me an easy plan, for the enemy could nearly double-cross you! I would not be as foolish, if it be I. But on the occasion, I was not interested in making profit. Nor was I intrigued to create great unrest within the world.

The Captain and Mr. Quatermain snapped back.

"You think we'll help start a war that will consume the planet?" spoke Captain.

"While you profit from your arms race?" Allan finished.

The Phantom looked almost displeased, as he looked down upon his boots as he continued, more hastily now, to join us at the ground floor.

"I cannot deny that fortunes are made in war…_imagine the riches a world war will yield_…"

He was so close to us now…the gunmen were aiming so precise…

"He's not wrong," Skinner pointed out. Well of course, but I believed on my behalf that it was wrong for Rodney to say as much, siding with our opponent. It sounded too…defecting. Mr. Gray must have thought so, too.

"Speak for yourself," he said.

I could nearly hear them speak, for I closely watched every move the Phantom made…eyed his every step he made closer towards us. He was nearly two feet from me now…just in front of Allan…when he kicked Mr. Quatermain's dropped gun, and it slid, back behind the bookshelves. I nearly jumped at the sudden movement! I believe Rodney Skinner noticed my impatient struggle, for I noticed him eye me strangely.

Allan Quatermain's head tilted upwards, to the side, I faintly noticed, to one of the gunmen. And right before I could follow his gaze, the man turned and aimed his gun to an ally beside him!

And I knew that was our cue.

I didn't have time to wonder who this gunman was and why he had betrayed the Phantom to help us, for I immediately was ready to sprint from the bullets aimed towards me. However, to my surprise, I was being pulled back! I was so frightened it was an opponent—I could have nearly had an attack on my fragile heart, but it was only the Captain, as he pulled me and Mrs. Harker behind one of the bookshelves with him.

I huffed so rigid—hugging the back of the wooden shelves, breathing so hard…! My heart was racing at such an impeccable speed I could hear it thump beyond all gunshots and shouts within the battle! I swiftly turned my gaze to the Captain.

"Thank you," I managed to say, quickly. He nod his head in return.

Just then, I looked back to the scene which unfolded before my eyes—papers flying everywhere—members of the league running around, fighting the gunmen—bullets sounding off—where was Mr. Skinner? I was immediately worried for him—I wondered if he managed to rid his clothes and visible makeup to become invisible. Yes—yes, that must have been what he had done. I turned back around to see the Captain and Mrs. Harker, but the Captain was gone. He had gone off to fight. I exchanged glances with Mrs. Harker. At first, we both looked uneasy and not knowing what to do. But, after about a few seconds whilst looking at each other, our expressions turned grave—for we knew that the two of us, as the women of the league, must prove ourselves useful. She turned to go and ran, first, behind the shelves beyond which I could see.

And then I was alone.

I did not know what to do! I was in the middle of a battle, with no weapons of any sort and no knowledge of experienced fighting! I am, simply but a _woman_! A useless, powerless _woman_! Mina, perhaps, could be experienced, but I am a useless English lady in the wrong place at the wrong time! I was not ready! I have had an interesting life—but nothing of fighting did I know…did I?

I initially began to back away from the scene—ready to escape the loft—and the league. I would betray my companions, for the lack of my own safety. I turned to go—and oh! There was a gunman right in front of my face! I screamed—which for a part alarmed the man at first, then gave him an amused chuckle—and did not shoot but instead swung the gun at my head! Thankfully and to my surprise, I dodged it, not knowing I had done so. I simply had—out of my subconscious desire to save myself, I stretched my spine backwards, and missed the gun by about an inch…an _inch_, I tell you!

I swung around the man—spun myself to the side of his body and sprint for my life. Out of the corner of my eye I had seen him aim for me, so I bolted to my left, out of his way…and out from behind the bookshelves.

This, you might conclude, was to be a terrible mistake. And yet, what a discovery it gave!

I saw the Captain at the other end of the room, retrieving his sword and surprising several gunmen at once. He tripped them, fought them, turned in the air and dodged his opponents—oh, how I envied his skill to fight!

But then, I realized at least five gunmen approaching my way. Oh, I am not one to curse, but I surely did so at that moment, several times in my mind.

I was being surrounded.

I looked around me, frantically. '_Dear, God! Siyana, pull yourself together!_' I thought. I was surely the only one in the league to be afraid of a fight! Terrified of men with guns or any other weapons against me! Even _Mrs. Harker_ had gone off, ready to fight the battle! Why…I was _recruited_ by M…so surely I must have some use for something as much as a battle! I must have had some use for this league!

For, as I turned away, ready to push past the men as hard as I could and hope I did not get shot, run back down the staircases to the door and run from this horrid building forever, something strange happened.

I saw the three gunmen in front of me, blocking my escape, felt the two gunmen behind me, aiming at my back, and just…well, I was not myself any longer. I had simply…lost it!

I stood my ground, fully surrounded now by five heavily armed, experienced gunmen. I felt my fists tighten, my nostrils flare, my eyes narrow, and I turned around to the other two men.

Past the gunmen, I saw the Captain stop and eye me, cautious for any man to fight, but watching me as to witness what I do—fight and reveal my extraordinary ability, or plead for his help to save me.

But I did not need his help, I soon realized why.

Before I knew it, everything just went hazy, and a strange sensation overcame me. I was beginning to lose my eyesight—everything soon began to fall into a miasma of bright white! And oh, nothing was clear! I had felt lightheaded, quite ready now to receive what horrors I deserve to be surrounded by men ready to kill. _I could not see, I tell you!_ Everything was simply white—and yet, I could still hear the scene go about, still feel the men around me. I was frightened, and yet I tried hard not show it, once (although taken aback) absorbed by my situation. I did not have control over my own body—I was subconsciously ready to fight the men, I knew I must be. And yet, _I could not see_! But, strange enough, my alternative senses began to heighten—I knew what to do, where everyone was—it was if I could see with my other senses—as if I really could see them, behind the white mask. It was all so scary, not able to see but more importantly not knowing how to control my body! My mind was to faint if not for what I heard; some of them in front of me shouted in a thick German accent,

"Her eyes are white!"

"She has gone blind!"

"What is happening?"

Why had my eyes gone blind at random—and why now? I felt a few of them shift, and take a step or two back. I heard a man from not too far away—the Captain, I soon realized, jolt over to the gunmen surrounding me—ready to fight for my place. But he stopped instantly, I heard, when my body jumped and twisted in mid-air! I say—some subconscious reflex, I chuckled, silently! I heard the Captain back away from the scene, and the gunmen consistently shout, shuffling away while cocking their guns. I heard other noises around me halt to a stop. Others were watching, too.

I landed dryly, quite lightly on my feet, and then…something even more peculiar happened. I…I raised my right hand, and…as I began to feel this very…uplifting sense, I heard each and every scream from each and every gunman surrounding me. I heard all five men fall to the floor with a lovely chorus of thuds, and screeching, which tended to pierce my own ears. And why, I was the culprit! How, I had not known…and even now, I am not sure what it is _exactly_ that makes me an extraordinary _lady_, but…I must record to whomever it concerns—it was simply a confusing feeling! I, Siyana Blair, initially and subconsciously raise my hand a few inches above my shoulder, and men are fallen—in pain—on my behalf. But no—it was truly me who had caused this riot, however strange it may seem—I am sure of it, but I am simply recording what had happened that dreary night! This is no tall tale! I, Siyana Blair, had disturbed five men—instantly!

At that moment I felt the strange sensation no longer—and, to my utter surprise and relief, my eyesight…but slowly, came back. The…_picturesque_ scene came trickling back just in time for me to witness some extraordinary members take action. Dorian, the utterly vain and meticulous immortal, was being shot continuously by some…automatic rifle…and he simply stood there…I say, jaded! The gunman was astonished by his competition and the two men—extra-ordinary and extra-unlucky, exchanged a dialect I could not hear. I was simply taken aback, still, by what I had done, just moments before.

Surrounding me, in which I eccentrically had not noticed just moments before, were five struggling gunmen—all blinded with white, washed out eyes; just as I had had an instant earlier.

I struck eyes with the Captain. His eyes were but curious, slightly sentimental, astonished and grateful; mine—teary, confused, and scared. Yes, I was scared. Surely…who would not?

Then, everything became to subsist to silence. Before I was capable to recompose myself, the battle was over. The league all appeared, slowly, and began to reminisce their simply—unproblematic struggle, as I, dumbfounded and nearly not as serene as the others, fell faint.

A/N: Questions? Comments? You know what to do!


	6. Atlantic Crosser

East London Docks, 1899

I had felt it was best to sit down at the nearest chair to my area, for I believed falling to the wood floor in a faded condition would distract quite the attention. I could not handle this—what was it that I had done? How may I be able to do it again? And who else, besides the Captain, had seen my action take place?

Before I could do anything but ask these questions, my thoughts were interrupted by Mr. Skinner, who retrieved his hat off the table of scotch. He was fully dressed once again, in all his splendid glory of grease paint and trench coat.

"I thought I was special…you're invulnerable to harm." he spoke in my estimation to Mr. Gray, whom replied with an "I don't like to boast…what happened to Mina?" while descending his spiral iron staircase. He was newly dressed, and sounding quite prideful, if I must say so myself.

On the contrary, I did wonder where Mina had run off to since I'd last seen her. Mr. Quatermain must have thought the same thing, for he spoke,

"Oh, she's probably hip-deep in some sort of trouble…"

How rude! I truly have been gaining a disliking for this Allan; he is just so sexist! What gives him the right to judge women in a way to call them insignificant and…and _distracting_, in his own words! I feel as if I should…I should _blind_ him! Ha! Yes! The power I have now realized to have must overpower me; I must use it to my advantage! I've seemed to gain some of my brawn back, and so I sat up, only to see Mina make her way into the room.

"Don't be such an alarmist, Mr. Q…and my hips are none of your business!" she spoke in quite the amused tone.

I couldn't help but feel disappointed by Mina's lack of standing up for her own womanly rights.

But, just then, I was quite surprised to witness a gunman hurriedly stand up behind Mina and seize a knife over her throat! I was standing near Mr. Skinner, Mr. Gray, and the Captain, and Mr. Quatermain was standing not near us, but a bit closer to Mina then the rest of us. At the very sight of Mina in danger we all subconsciously reacted in a protective way; Nemo retrieved his sword, Allan cocked his rifle, Mr. Gray retrieved his own steel, Mr. Skinner jerked in a defensive manner, and to my surprise a young man I have never seen before…yet, a man I have never seen before wearing the same apparel as the gunman cocked a rifle as well! Who was this gunman? Why is _he_, an ally of _our_ apparent opponent defending Mrs. Wilhelmina Harker? And yet…even _I_ felt strange when caught sight of this attack; I was beginning to get the same exhilarating feeling once earlier, during the battle; during my subconscious blinding defense.

"Shoot!" the man shouted to all of us. "Go on!"

By his words, this gunman knew by our turn he will immediately react by slicing our colleague's throat. And so, we all relaxed our manners. In response, he laughed.

"I guessed as much…they would do anything to protect you." He must have been speaking to Mina. His voice was full of vulgarity…his tone was growling…I viewed as his breath crept against Mina's skin…and oh, how I pained for her! But, she defended herself against the odds,

"See, now that's your biggest mistake…" her words confused me; what had this woman up her sleeve…? But she continued…

"Thinking that I need them to protect me…"

What is she…?

And she pounced! I say, right from his grasp! And she…dare I say it…turned at the very man and aimed at his _neck_! What, in God's name, did she intend to do? But I digress…I must say it now before I merely faint of the thought…she simply seized her opponent's neck and…oh I cannot believe…

Wilhelmina Harker is a vampire! A vile, blood-sucking creature of the night! She detained the man's throat, plunged her fangs, and flung back her head revealing to us the most depraved sight of all—her fang-sporting mouth sodden with the man's blood, and repossessed to her labor! We were all more than shocked—I, myself, was sickened to the bone! Ah, I knew this woman had something on her! And her name…I do recall…however, not to come to mind just yet I intend to find out what it is that I know of her. Her vampire nature certainly did not spark my memory, but I do know it is something of which must have related to her character. As I ramble, she must have finished her work, for she left the dead body at its rest and sprung to her feet. I was able to tell she was quite embarrassed for her action, for she hurriedly pinned up her hair, and checked her mirror while wiping the blood off her lips. I feared that I simply stood there whilst draping my jaw. The Captain's words traumatized me out of my hypnotic stance.

"_Extraordinary…_"

Why…extraordinary is far from what I imagined.

"Boy…they told me European women had funny ways…" a voice I have never heard before had spoken. But I soon realized it to be the gunman who had defended our Mina! His accent sounded to be of America. He surely did look American by his disheveled, unkempt blonde hairstyle!

Mina continued to wipe the blood off her lips, when the young American offered to her, "You missed a spot."

She seemed embarrassed—she said, "Excuse me" and looked away to dab the remains of blood off her face. And oh, how I ache for her sake of embarrassment, she soon realized of the complete and utter stranger standing there, watching her actions like that…

"And you are?" she asked.

The young man gave the league and I a sign of confidence.

"Special Agent Sawyer…of the American Secret Service."

And so he was not a gunman for The Fantom after all…

Allan spoke up. "Then America is aware of the situation."

Well, Mr. Quatermain…obviously.

The young agent replied, "Well, war starts in Europe, how long will it take until it crosses the Atlantic?", and I couldn't help but feel a slight hint of a sarcastic character in this boy. And he continued…

"I followed you. I took out a straggler, and I took his place."

He followed us? How very curious.

It seems as if Mr. Gray, to whom I almost forgot was standing right beside me, took a rather disliking for this agent.

"Very noble. But this is a private party, and you're not invited." he spoke.

In response, naturally, Agent Sawyer seemed to be of disappointment. Mina struck back, however.

(Must I say that despite her strong, willing vampirism, amused tone of our league members, and sturdy but occasionally soft rights as an English woman, overall I find Mrs. Harker to be a very baffling, generally weak character for my sense. I wonder if vampires can withstand blindness…)

"Actually, Dorian has declined…so we are one shy of a full deck." She spoke to us all in a friendly offer. I was quite impressed by her amusing deject of Mr. Gray, her apparent…past friend. This, however, does not alter my thoughts towards her manner or temperament. And, as I soon realize to be correct, I did not fall to realize that Mr. Gray was done with us all. And so,

"On the contrary, the battle was just the spur I needed…that, and the…thrill of a friendship renewed," Mr. Gray caught a glance at Mina, who returned a certainly flirtatious smile. There was, as anyone could only imagine, something going on between the two. And frankly, it quite disturbed me.

"So you're not needed." Dorian continued.

The boy seemed gloom, and I honestly felt sad in the Agent's favor. He had such a young face…it's as if I'm looking into the face of my younger brother, with whom I had let down.

And Mr. Q then saved the day.

"Winchester…" our elderly adventurer glanced at the Agent's rifle. What is it, dear God that distracts men these days; weapons? Whatever happened to good old chivalry and dedication! The man is extremely overrated about time by stories and such…the dear brutality for a woman to think the perfect man is out there to unwillingly serve to her will and kiss her foot and hand at please…and here I stand, by a man distracted by a rifle…

Agent Sawyer gave Allan the Winchester indeed. "That's right," he spoke. "It's modified…American style." And our dear Mr. Quatermain mumbled, "American style shooting too…"

Now, I'm not one to mock, however, I cannot hold it back:

Quatermain, one; Sawyer, zero.

A-ha! How I laugh!

A chuckle came from this care-free boy; I, say!

"Well…whatever it takes."

Humph. I could not help but feel dizzy once again.

I took a quick glance around the room…I felt on edge. Besides the two men conversing against one another, Mrs. Harker seemed to be quite at ease if not slightly hasty (in my opinion, to see whether or not her precious agent joins the team or not), Mr. Gray seemed…angered, for lack of a better judgment. Mr. Skinner, to my surprise, looked to be amused and yet…sly, but of course for his character. The Capitan, who caught my glance, seemed on edge as well…hasty to continue our mission and not waste it on this dilly dallies of a conversation! We were a chosen league—is it our choice to add…or possibly remove members? That leaves me to wonder shall I be a part of that case.

And then, it was done, as Allan spoke.

"You're in"


	7. Mr WhiteHousePast

East London Docks, 1899

We descended a long iron staircase that led the seven of us out of Dorian's loft and out into the fresh, breezy salted air of the East London Docks. The night was gloomy and the water was suspiciously calm…and yet, I felt an aura of misgiving in the hours of darkness….

"So…what's the next port of call?" Mr. Gray spoke with an eminence of phony.

As I followed Mr. Skinner down the stairway, watching my step (for it was quite the steep stairwell) whilst listening to the shady conversation of the league. I still could not help but feel suspicious about each and every member of the league, especially Mr. Gray. And yet, I did not feel any need to do something about it. My purpose in this endeavor is to merely follow the orders of our mysterious superior M; to stop this Fantom from spreading his chaos and starting his warfare. My curiosity travels to what, exactly, did our other members have in mind…

"Paris…just one last member to recruit." Nemo spoke, waking me of my trance.

I wonder who this new recruit was, exactly…

Mr. Quatermain continued. "Capture is more the word…and it will be quite the hunt."

Oh, that Mr. Q! His mind always wanders to the brutality of life! And yet…his choice of words caught me to wander to strange and curious thoughts.

"You make him sound like some kind of animal." Mina said. Oh, even she chooses her mind to wander!

I, myself know perfectly what it feels to be hunted; to be the prey. I can tell it will be a most interesting meeting with this, as I quote Mrs. Harker, this 'animal'. How dare she call such a recruit, however much they deserve it. I say, Mrs. Harker and Mr. Quatermain should be soul mates by the way they think alike; they way they cause my thoughts to react! Good God, I am sickened of this league!

I am ashamed to say at this moment I feel my sight to lighten.

"Oh, and speaking thus, Mrs. Harker…you're conduct, uh…a moment ago?" Mr. Q suggested.

Ah, I see a quarrel arising between these two? If only they could put aside their differences and realize their true potential!

A-ha, does my mind roam!

"Indeed. We are all aquiver with curiosity." I was distracted enough to realize we had reached the bottom of the stairs. I slightly jumped with fright as Mr. Skinner whizzed past me and up to Mina, as he offered his state of mind.

And then she spoke:

"Well…my husband was Jonathan Harker. Together with a professor named Van Helsing we fought a dangerous evil. It had a name; Dracula; he was Transylvanian."

Ah, and so I finally realize where it was she had been familiar! The name Van Helsing does ring that bell! I remember reading an outlandish article within the London Times quite a while ago—years! That had to do with her story of defeating this vampire disruption!

"Mmm…European? One of those radicals the newspapers love to report on?"

Where was Mr. Skinner going with his consideration? I say, at times he may simply say things for the spite!

"I don't know, Mr. Skinner…" Mrs. Harker turned to face us—her neck, Oh dear Lord, may I pray not to be sickened—she revealed to us two puncture marks! I had sucked in my breath to hold my condition. The darkness that surrounded us all thankfully hid my expression. I was, after all, behind the rest of the league. I do not believe I could imagine what would happen if Mrs. Harker had noticed my fear.

"Is the vampiric _sucking_ of people's _blood_ radical behavior?"

And he fell silent, pray God. I fear Mrs. Harker's nature will stand within the way of many things for myself. I was, for lack of better words, fearful for my sake.

Mrs. Harker pulled up her collar to hide her marks as I began to hear a peculiar noise. My vision had been lightening hastily as the Capitan claimed to recall the noise as his own; he spoke,

"Ah…our transportation is forthcoming."

Where was this vessel of his? I heard the noise but I could not decipher within the fog where the boat was hidden. I reclaimed the conversation beforehand as my eyes wandered around the docks for our transport.

"A boat?" spoke our Agent Sawyer.

"It travels on water, if that's what you mean…and beneath it." spoke the Captain, as our strange noise grew louder.

Pray to the lord of what happened next.

Beneath our very own Captain Nemo—yes—for the Captain was indeed the once time terror of the seas—rose what I believed, at that moment, was to be the Nautilus, in which I soon realized the name of our mysterious Captain.

And dear Lord was I terrified of that ship.

It rose, slowly, moaning as cascades of waterfalls ran down its metal sides. It never stopped to rise behind our Captain and in front of my very own eyes—it towered above us all—oh, I could not contemplate this very scene to write down—it had been just so horrid.

"Woah…" I could hear our American agent mumble.

I had hastily backed away from the dreadful thing, bumping into Mr. Skinner. He caught me with surprise, and then returned his gaze back to the Nautilus.

And yet, I could not. I had to look away.

"Behold; Nautilus—the sword of the ocean!" I heard Nemo shout above the impeccable groans of his ship.

"Next stop, Paris!" he shouted.

Right at that moment, the metal doors of the Nautilus slowly descended for us, and the league entered. I, as one could only imagine, entered last, due to my utter fright for the vessel…and its occupants. The insides were glorious, pray tell, however it was not enough to lessen my excitement. Ishmael, the man I had seen before in the Captain's "automobile", greeted us and brought to us a tour of this established craft. I followed the league, which lessened as Ishmael brought us each a cabin to reside in for the time being. We were all quite close to each other; my cabin was simply a few doors down from Mrs. Harker's (I believe I cannot stand the injustice any longer). But, as I was forced to enter by my own betraying will, I found it uneasy. The room was well furnished with a bed, vanity, bookshelf, table and such…but I did not know what to do! In the corner of my eye I noticed my bags lying on the bed, and wondered who the last to touch my things was, and could not think of it. I stood there, uneasily, as my door was closed without warning and sounds of people continuing on were heard.

I was left here, alone, in a room I have never been in before. What was I to do? And so, I quickly remembered we were on our way to Paris to recruit our last member. Who was he; yet again…and why did Mr. Quatermain and Mrs. Harker refer to them as "an animal" and one to "hunt"? And…when we reached the country of France, when shall I know? Am I supposed to know? Will someone inform me?

I was aboard the Nautilus—our very own Captain Nemo's house of terror. One could only imagine my fright, could they not? I was bound to explore this ship—I could not plainly sit here and wait for our arrival. I was not to sit here and do nothing, wasting my precious time of waiting for danger to arrive. And yet, when it does, will I be ready? What I did at Mr. Gray's loft could not have easily swept my thoughts aside for any expectations. And so, for a few hours, I trained my mind to protect. I trained my…extraordinary ability.

I closed my eyes…thought of my lights slowly growing and filling my entire soul with security…and yet, when I opened my eyes, I could see no light, but only the picturesque cabin scene before me. I believe in only a time of danger does my light turn on, and so I felt that I might as well save my energy for when that time comes, and instead look to the vessel for further inspiration.

I slowly opened that door and the unfamiliar white tiled walls gleaming with lights and beautifully woven rugs and vases of flowers, surrounded by windows to see out into the open ocean skies and my anxiety, for a moment, seemed to respite. But yet it came back—the frightening thought of being all alone once again, in this big…this…this big white _house_ with all strangers wanting to create harm…I can see it in their eyes; the mischief! If only I knew of what I was capable of…I…I, oh if only I knew! I could have done so much! I shut my door and wailed across the hall to its other side—I couldn't help myself but hug the tiled wall and bury my head I was so ashamed of myself…

It was the past all over again, and I had fallen into all their traps for setting me up, and I just never thought…I promised myself to never again…

Oh, but I digress…I needed to pull myself together to hope, and yet there isn't any. I just know there isn't. And no matter what anyone can do _nothing_, and I mean _nothing_ can have me forget that.

But I continued on, past the walls, past the windows and lights, until I knew for sure that I crept aboard the Nautilus to venture its discovery. I came across to what I believed was an engine room, for as I opened the door I found several noisy machines and several Indian crewmen paying attention my way—and hastily, and to my surprise with amuse, I scurried on away from the trouble. I couldn't help but…but to laugh at those faces of the Captain's men—oh, how they were surprised to see me standing there in the doorway, watching all that machinery do its job…and thought it best for my health to explore some more. It had been almost an hour, and ending by exploration by retreating to my cabin I jumped at a noise. It was in fact a roar of some sort…I rushed inside my room and found everything to be shaking marvelously at a loud, brutal sound that echoes the walls. I was amused, yes, after my exciting discovery of this vessel, but this brutality shocks me into nervousness once again. What was this stimulating racket? I followed it, nevertheless…and although it may seem strange for my character to follow the very danger but my mood at that moment was so up for an adventure I could not help myself. Had we docked and caught our recruit already? When did this happen? Why wasn't I notified? I scurried through the halls, needing to lift my skirts and ignore my subconscious _screaming_ to my thoughts to stop in my tracks, knowing that danger lied ahead but I was _sick_ of standing behind and watching everyone else fight for what is right. I am _sick_ of fleeing of everything I come across and I am absolutely _sick_ of being _killed_ by curiosity. I ran to the havoc—I ran to meet our new recruit, if that is exactly what I was running to—and I ended up running down a chilled hallway in which the sound had echoed the most, and I figured it to be the room where the Captain chilled all his fish for serving. Strange place to stash a person, however, when I entered that room—yet, when I ran through that room I stopped once sight of this beast.

A beast he very much was—he was great in size, horrendous looking, pacing the room in a mischievous manner, and yet I could not take my eyes of his. His bulging, bloodshot, yet deeply soft eyes surveyed the room. The beast was pretentious! It eyed us all, one by one, staring at each and every one of us with an ill-behaved grin upon its face…and to one's surprise…I was not entirely afraid of this monster. There was something about him…something very frightening…that was not frightening at all.

I heard a shift of air come my way as I turned my head to see Mrs. Harker, Mr. Gray and Mr. Skinner arrive. Mr. Quatermain, who I'd, failed to notice before, spoke with a witty manner to us all,

"Stay back…if you value your life!"

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Quatermain? The…_recruit_ seems harmless!"

Had…had I just said that?

"Why, Ms. Blair…I beg to differ." Mr. Quatermain chuckled. "This beast is liable of a great deal havoc."

"Who here isn't?"

I honestly did not know what had caused me to react this way.

Mr. Quatermain fell silent.

I had felt a pat on my back, and as I turned, I saw Mr. Skinner move forward with curiosity alongside Mr. Gray. And then, Mr. Skinner fell from our brute's force! In response, I noticed at the corner of my eye Mr. Allan Quatermain send me a smirk. And Mr. Gray, in sheer ennui, helped Mr. Skinner up and caused him to reply,

"OW! …You scratched me!"

How curious. How did Mr. Gray's soft fingernails scratch so hard through the harder leather fabric of Mr. Skinner's gloves?

"Better me than him," Mr. Gray cleverly responded. And even so as harmful did this beast seem, I could not help but feel sorry for him—being all chained up as he was—the brute had chains on his hands, feet and body…threatened with spears of the Captain's men! And yet, he swung his arms round and round, knocking them out of their menacing actions! He was only doing so due to their events, and so he reacts this way! As I have mentioned before I _know_ what it is like behind the tough skin, behind the crazed mind, behind the bulging eyes and raging attitude…I would say this beast and I have _much_ in common.

"Well…this is nice." said Mr. Gray, eyeing the wreaking havoc of our beast.

"Mr. Hyde…you've done terrible things in England." Mr. Quatermain started.

And yet…Mr. Hyde? Oh, no…it could not be! I know of this beast! I know of this beast very much!

"Edward…?" I whispered, out of my subconscious. Once I had done so, I must say I jolted at the very thought of my saying so. Thank the Lord no one heard me. At least…at least I do not imagine.

Mr. Quatermain continued…

"So terrible that you fled the country!"

Oh, Edward…

"And I'm ashamed to say that Her Majesty's government…"

Edward Hyde…is our brute….

"Is willing to offer you…"

And it's all coming back to me…

"amnesty!"

Of everything back then…

I've learned of a lot of unusual stories in my lifetime. Being in the home taught me a basis for many things…I was able to open my eyes to the many splendid things this life has to offer. Discussion throughout the home had spread much information—the story of Mr. Griffin, Van Helsing, Mr. Hyde…it all obviously spreads throughout the home. Of course, stories such as that should be able to make its way to all us occupants. I have heard a great deal of Mr. Hyde; the brute was able to make his way in many newspapers during the time. Perhaps then, I can be extraordinary after all…to be categorized with all the stories, I am proud to be a part of it all.

"Do you want to go home?"

Mr. Hyde spoke:

"Home; home's where the heart is, that's what they say. And I have been missing London so. Its sorrow is as sweet to me as a rare wine…" he said. He then stopped for a moment, and spoke,

"I'm yours…" I must say I was shocked to hear such words…then mesmerized to follow Mr. Hyde's gaze to the very discomfited, very stunned eyes of Mrs. Harker! My…I chuckled within my mind…I couldn't imagine if I was her.

"Don't be afraid."

To whom was Mr. Hyde speaking?

"Who says I'm afraid?"

Ah, Mr. Sawyer. But how did Mr. Hyde…?

"YOU DO!"

OH!

At that moment, Mr. Hyde _detained_ a chain from the wall and threw that piece to our agent! Thankfully he dodged it, as did our other league members in way of the attack! I missed its range, but I am able to bet that I jumped far more than any person in this room.

"YOU STINK OF FEAR!" Mr. Hyde's roar echoed the room. It would appear as if his senses are intriguingly sensitive…obviously.

"Quite the parlor trick," Mr. Gray commented. I know I've mentioned it before…but I cannot help but say that there is something about Mr. Gray that is intriguingly suspicious, and yet…fascinating! I know there is something 'out of bed' with this gentleman, and I mean to find out! Simply his voice…

I know when an individual is up to no good when I see them. I would know, for I've been that very individual myself.

"Just wait till you see my next one." Mr. Hyde snapped.

And then, something strange happened. I…I noticed he was restraining a kind of pain, and then…oh, shall I bear it?

Oh, but I must simply say it:

Mr. Hyde burst into smoke—the pain was unbearable to watch—moment after moment the beast was…was changing…and I could agonizingly see his ache as the alteration preceded. What was happening, I did not know, but the one thing that changed me at that moment was the fact that the beast's amendment brought me to remember that very night.

Yes—yes I remember it very clearly, once viewing this beast create the same kind of pain I once went through. I can still see the blinding white room…the groups of doctors dressed in the same white cloth…and oh, the table…

I cannot bear it! My eyes lightened hastily, being reminded of all the terror that I ventured to in the past and I just cannot bear to see another experience my very history!

My mind wanders to places I just cannot bear at moments. If I was not seeing the pain in front of me as a threatening reminder, that would be a different story.

And, once my sight was able to calm, I saw not Mr. Hyde, but a new man, oh so weak, and declining the floor in faint. He had worn what I believed to be Mr. Hyde's torn pants, and had a mass of untidy orange hair, due to unthankfully the horrid transformation just moments ago.

"Dr. Jekyll…at your service…"

Who was this man? Where was Mr. Hyde? Oh…blast this blinding power of mine! But if I was to assume, Mr. Hyde had turned to Dr. Jekyll. Does this confirm that they are indeed the…the same man? Shared bodies—or something of the sort, I am not sure. But it is surely curious!

"So…the league is set." I heard Mr. Quatermain speak across the room…and some sort of machinery produced a thin slip of paper of which I predicted to be a form of Morse code, and Nemo confirmed:

"So is the date for the conference. We have three days."

Three…! Marvelous!

Agent Sawyer huffed, which, I felt to be inappropriate and disrespectful for the moment, and said,

"Three days? Can this canoe do that?"

I felt sympathy for our Captain.

"You underestimate the Nautilus. You underestimate her greatly."

Surely, Agent Sawyer, you do.

And that was it. The league _was _set. And we were off—off to the conference in Venice, I would believe, and keep this humanity from degenerating beneath the Fantom's clasp.


	8. Revealed by a Doctor

The Diaries of an Enigmatic Manipulator

An LXG fanfiction

(Don't own the league and its story; rights reserved for Alan Moore. Any alterations from the movie or its characters, the creation of Siyana Blair, etc. I claim my own.)

Somewhere in the Atlantic; June 1899

After that wicked encounter with a memory from my past, it would seem the entire league was in need of fresh air, including the now polished, newly acquired, very puzzling Dr. Jekyll. I soon learned that his first name was Henry. During the same time, I learned the American Secret Service agents first name as well—Tom.

Captain Nemo showed us the way to his main deck, and I am ashamed to say, although not surprised, that I was terrified of standing atop possibly Earth's highest ships. If I had to ever look down upon the water, I could most definitely bet that I would be horror-struck; nevertheless I would fall to the call of the ocean and all its threatening waves and creatures. Besides my phobia of being on top, simply I was afraid of climbing the metal bars that led to it. I say…it was not even a stairwell! Now, I am not entirely knowledgeable of the nautical terms, however I describe so; you must enter this narrow tubular space, which a series of metal entities ascended its wall which led straight to the deck! If I don't say so for myself; what an unpleasant way for transport!

It took, then, several strengths for me to ascend that…that stairwell mockery before I met fresh air again. The sunlight was radiant this evening, and all eight of us league members surrounded the railings. The ship deck was of an odd shape, I must say…and as my first most act of stupidity, I happened to look over the railing to the sea hundreds of feet below as I reached my position. I could have just fell then and there.

I was standing behind the left side of the deck, of which I cannot remember the nautical term for, (blessed me for not remembering…my own father would be filled with disappointment!) and soon I was accompanied by Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Skinner. I hadn't noticed where the others had gone about the deck until I frightfully heard our entryway shut, and turned to see the Captain was missing. I hoped he simply did so to check on some technical things for his ship, and not leave us here to drown as he descends his ship into the water. And so, I noticed Mr. Quatermain and Agent Sawyer conversing on the right side of the ship, and Mrs. Harker, soon accompanied by Mr. Gray (such surprise) at the front-most end. Oh, do these nautical terms confuse me! I know one side…left or right I do not know…is called the starboard. But if I do not know which side, it is of little use.

I must say I was quite uncomfortable being between these two gentlemen; Mr. Rodney Skinner and Dr. Henry Jekyll. I almost hadn't noticed how tight my grip on the railing was until any words were spoken.

"Are you all right?"

I also hadn't noticed, until moments later, that Dr. Jekyll was addressing to me. Once more and as usual, I found it hard to find my words.

"Oh…I, um…yes…yes, I'm fine."

I tried to lessen the grip upon the railing, but failed to do so.

"Thank you…." I mumbled, slightly grateful for his concern. And yet…why _was_ he concerned? This man _was_ a stranger to me, after all!

"Well…this is awkward."

Dr. Jekyll and I both turned to Mr. Skinner, who casually leaned upon the cold iron barrier and stared into the open ocean sun.

I could barely make out what the others were saying, which to me looked like a slight annoyance or quarrel (Agent Sawyer had been giving Mr. Gray an infuriated look), when our Captain merely appeared out of nowhere when he announced the "solar panels" (whatever that was…?) were charged and the ship was ready to dive. (I assumed these so-called "solar panels" provided the ship with its energy)

Well, I was glad enough at that moment to learn the Captain wouldn't sink us after all; at least not yet.

And before our short period of fresh air could last, I resumed to my fear of the slender tubular scope, and its petrifying metal climb.

Before I was able to retreat to my own cabin, Mr. Skinner, Mrs. Harker, Dr. Jekyll and I were informed that Agent Sawyer, Mr. Quatermain, and Captain Nemo would be discussing our strategies for our arrival at Venice in Mr. Quatermain's quarters, if anyone had wished to join.

I would have accompanied them to get a better understanding of this reality, however I did not. It is not in my nature to…plan.

_Later_

I was concealed inside my cabin, hugging my knees to my chin upon the bed when I was startled.

There was a knock on my door.

I began to feel slightly lightheaded and swiftly sprinted to my feet. The knock came again, then a voice. It had spoken in an Indian accent:

"Ms. Blair; by orders of Captain Nemo, he wishes me to inform you that dinner will now be served in the dining room. He would like to know if you will be attending, and if so I would be glad to show you the way."

I already knew where it was, from my self-tour yesterday.

"…Ms. Blair?"

Slowly, I crept towards the doorway, and slowly, I had opened it about a half of an inch; enough for me to get a glimpse of the Captain's crewman.

"Um…no, thank you. I won't be joining…sorry."

I shut the door hastily, fumbled to lock it, and scurried back to the bed. I was indeed hungry, however I was far too aware of the Captain's attempt to slay us all—what if he had poisoned our food? What if it was a trap? What if everything was a trap? What if this league—what if this mission was a trap? Oh, but I cannot think of the possibility. If my dire health needed food, I must take the chance. For now, I can remain alive.

_The Next Day_

I must have fallen asleep shortly after my request for dinner, for I woke up from a malevolent dream to what I would have imagined to be the next morning. The light was shining through the porthole, and so I also realized we were of course above water, and, more terribly frightening, we were that much closer to Venice.

My dream consisted of the same memory Mr. Edward Hyde had reminded me. I will not mention it for un-needful purposes (for I do know I have indeed written fully of it before—years back, and I will absolutely not bring up any more dreadful memories of the home). The other details are not as important as to what else it may involve.

I am most terribly starving, and I can only imagine the richest of breakfasts in my mind to comfort my famine, but I continue to refuse food from the Captain. Even at my state of mind I believe I would refuse food from any person right now.

Instead, I insisted upon either attempting to fall back into my slumber with hopes of no dreams _or_ nightmares, for that matter…otherwise, if that fails, reside in my room until further notice of our mission.

_Later_

I cannot resist this hunger. It is driving me insane. But still, I will not cave to mere starvation! Perhaps in a few more days, I shall surrender in knowledge of my growing faintness or declining health.

It is late in the day—I shall estimate to be around six o'clock, and I have saved my energy and bravery to once again explore the ship. As threatening I find Captain Nemo, he and his ship are yet to be fascinating. It was only a matter of time until I heard voices in the hallway, and so I planned to investigate.

I found it to be Mr. Quatermain and Mrs. Harker, standing a distance from each other, and talking in a low tone. They seemed to be watching something, and as I peered my head past the walls further than it was, I noticed their entertainment: Captain Nemo.

He was performing some sort of ritual; he was surrendering several swords, kneeling, and what I believed to be praying to a giant golden statue; a woman with several arms, which held several weapons. Its beauty glinted in the open room's light, shining blissfully better than the Captain's plain white garments. I assumed the statue to be of an Indian goddess. Mina, as performed in the dialect shown before you and I, proved me right:

"That's Kali…Goddess of Death." She spoke to Mr. Quatermain, approaching him as he watched the ritual intently. She continued:

"Nemo worships death; can we trust him?" her voice, to me, sounded bitter. And, for the record, I was unusually angry for her informal referral to the Captain. "Nemo", simply does not fit it.

And, to add to her hateful comment, worshiping death is never a horrid thing. I should be one to speak, considering my utter fright for the Captain's devices for us aboard his ship. Taking my hunger into consideration only worsened the effect, regrettably.

It may possibly mean our Captain thinks of death as a far more complicated thing than the rest of us, I would imagine partly due to his past, partly due to his religion. Me, I am not entirely sure what _I_ worship the most. In my defensive case, I would say light for it is an easy way out, so to speak. I do not _worship_ light, no…but due to my reason being here, possibly a little thanks to the Gods of light can benefit me in the long run. I do remember one of the doctors at the home once telling me of a Goddess I reminded him of. Her name was Siyana, like me, and out of the many Gods and Goddesses of that region, she was best famous for being one of the many heroes to protect with a special power of light. They even had a constellation dedicated to her, if I believe I heard right. They called her, "The Mid-Morning Sun".

Enough of my ramble, after Mina had made her comment, Mr. Quatermain simply replied,

"He's not the one I'm worried about.", and left Mrs. Harker…and I, alone in the darkness. Peering back to the Captain, I see he must have taken notice to the double's presence, for he silently shut the doors to his sacrament.

About an hour later, I had a very interesting encounter and conversation with Dr. Jekyll. I continued to roam the ship unseen (I can partially see what it must feel for Mr. Skinner—I wonder if he enjoys wandering, too…and I wonder if he had ever spotted me on my own—if so, when, and for how long had he watched me spy on other's conversations and the secrets of this vessel! I just hope the cards do not foresee great danger on my behalf because of this…), and came nearly to the point where I was just simply too tired to explore any longer, and headed back for my room. As I dashed my toes across the hall, I could hear familiar shouts just around the corner! I must say, it startled me! And with all this alarm, I was beginning to form a headache, yet again. I should have mentioned it earlier—at the beginning of this Fantom mission—ever since the meeting with M and Mr. Reed—ever since leaving the confines of my familiar, quiet, isolated home, my symptoms have begun to come back from all these years. Although my time at the home has been a few years past and since then I have never felt the need to leave my home, I still felt it startling and strange for them to come back so suddenly. I had thought my solitary time had demolished them for good! And yet, the headaches, the weakness, the insomnia, the dizziness, the rapid heart rate and such have not failed to terrorize me thus far.

Not to ramble…yet again…to my exploit with the Doctor;

After hearing faintly familiar shouts—I did not know, at the moment, who they were from—I came to notice Dr. Henry Jekyll casually pace himself around the corner of the hall, seemingly unaware of my standing there and mumbling to himself; what a strange fellow!

Stupidly, I did not move from his way, for he was headed straight in my direction—yet again, not noticing my being there.

And of course, we bumped into each other. Well…technically…_he_ bumped into _me_. I will not be blamed responsible for his actions! Humph!

He seemed just as startled as I. And, when he lifted his face to meet mine, I could tell he was unusually flushed; something told me it was not from the startle of walking straight into me, but the argument I overheard. (Oh…yet again I hope my spying was not witnessed!)

"OH!" I yelped to his unawareness and my stupidity for simply standing there, knowing perfectly well he would have walked right into me.

"Oh—Siyana, are you alright? I'm sorry…I was…_distracted_."

"Well, yes it certainly seemed so."

He looked at me for a moment, uncomfortable.

"I must say, Doctor, you seem terribly reddened." I spoke.

"Is everything okay?"

"Um…yes, everything is fine. I'm sorry to bump into you, Ms. Blair…."and he began to walk off subconsciously again, but surprisingly I stopped him with my words!

"Did Mr. Edward Hyde hurt you?" I did not know what else to say, but he did indeed stop.

I thought I heard a sigh. "You know, Siyana…Edward and I can hear each other. And, when someone speaks to me, Edward can hear, and when someone speaks to Edward, I can hear as well."

I did not know what he meant to apply to me, but he continued.

"What you said the other day to Allan—that you didn't think Edward was capable of much harm—we couldn't help but feel startled by your statement. The rest of the league and Captain Nemo's crewmen were very much afraid. You, on the other hand, didn't seem to be as much."

If I were to curse, it would be now. But there was no turning back now—blast my sudden curiosity! I had to inform him of my memory.

"I...well…I've read much about Mr. Hyde, and he reminded me much of my past…."

"In what way?" he asked, more curious than ever to see the connection.

I began to walk alongside him cautiously—I was indeed, alongside a beast…yet, half a beast. We walked together down to the end of the hall as I told my story. I spoke these words:

"Mr. Hyde's transformation…his pain…reminded me of a few years back, when I was forced to live in a clinical center. I did not want to go, but they insisted that for my benefits they required a…"checkup", I quote."

He waited for me to continue.

"I soon realized it was far more than just that. What I didn't know the day I arrived that I would be living there for years, being tortured out of my misery!" I, myself, gave a bit of a weeping cry.

"The first day I got there, I was nervous…they had papers filed, brought me to a room, gave me hospitalized cloth to wear…I was terribly afraid, but calm. I did not fear the worst. I was unaware back then."

I paused, but nevertheless he continued to listen.

I was about to persist, but I stopped, subconsciously, in my tracks.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

I looked to him in the eye, very, regretfully teary…realizing what I had actually brought up.

"Mr. Hyde's pain slightly reminded me of my pain…of what they did to me."

He did not hesitate. "What did they do to you?"

"It was not a 'checkup' at all. They brought me to this bright, white room…it was blinding…."

I didn't think I could carry on, but he looked just so concerned!

And then, I started to weep.

"As soon as I set foot in that room I knew exactly where I was and what they intended to do. They needed to hold me…they forced me to a long metal table in the middle of the room…I was…I was strapped down, resisting the thoughts that lied ahead and fighting with all my will…they hurt me, however…they brutally butchered me to simply lay still…they injected substances in me and at that moment I knew I was to die and yet I did not know what it was exactly that I did to deserve this fate…!"

He stopped me, at that moment, with a hand on my shoulder. Strangely, I believe he resisted an urge to wipe the tears from my eyes. We were not close, and I was horridly shocked to reveal such a memory to a simple stranger!

"Siyana…it's alright. I'm sorry to bring up your bad memories. You don't have to continue on, if you cannot take it."

I just nodded. He seemed to understand.

Without saying another word, I hurriedly walked away from Doctor Henry Jekyll, and into my cabin where I wept the rest of the night.

A/N: If you're curious about what it was exactly that happened to Ms. Blair, or if you have a request to read more info about her past within future chapters, let me know. I'm not too sure if I'm going to put too much more of her past into the story, for she wouldn't just spill all the info out to Jekyll like that, or her diary…considering she wrote about it years ago when it actually happened, so to speak. So, if you want, message/comment.


	9. The Neurosis Attack

The Diaries of an Enigmatic Manipulator

A/N: Venice! Alright—just to warn you, this chapter gets a little…intense. (In my opinion) Also, at the end of this chapter is a special treat: an entry in Dr. Jekyll's diary, where he records some interesting thoughts of Siyana.

Oh, and sorry if I don't really write who's saying what at times—it might be a little confusing if you've never seen LXG or don't remember, but it's in the POV of Siyana, who can't tell who's saying what due to her condition.

Somewhere in the Mediterranean (I believe), 1899

Today, I've heard some frightening news:

Dr. Jekyll claims that Mr. Skinner has taken a vial of Hyde's formula, and that he is a spy.

But, I do not believe him. It is not because I claim to know of Mr. Skinner's loyalty, and that he would never double-cross us, but I do not believe Dr. Jekyll because I know who _really_ took his formula.

I will not record it for reasons in which, no matter how much we trusted him and how much he betrayed us all, I will not be the rat. But I sensed that part of him…the part where he certainly had something up his sleeve…and evil presence in which I was surprised no one else noticed…a presence I found familiar in myself.

And yet, I am surprised to simply write all this new news down without being crushed by my revelation to Dr. Jekyll! Why—I had certainly welled right in front of him! And he was so kind about it, despite the horrors of my embarrassment. I do not believe he thought much of my history but of my charisma. It was absolutely dreary.

All this came across my mind just hours before our arrival in Venice—in which, according to M, we must stop the Fantom from attacking the conference. I could nearly faint…I do not know how to fight! I cannot defend myself! I just cannot! My unknown, unpracticed power only the Captain and I are aware of is surely confusing to me, and I do not count on it to defend my life! One must understand…I cannot see anything during the process! As I feel threatened, I become _more_ of a threat by losing my eyesight. It truly is a horror.

But, almost at once we docked, and exited the ship to the lovely grounds of Venice, Italy. It would seem there was some sort of carnival going on, with masquerade, music and dancing, and more of the likes.

As the league and I walked down the Nautilus' ramp to meet the stone grounds of Venice, a team of divers dressed in white and silver suits, decorated with a most beautiful God-like armor in protection exited by almost a march as well.

Nemo spoke as their order: "Deploy the divers beneath the city. That explosive must be found."

Dreary me…but…explosive…? Did anyone ever mention an explosive for my sake? I…I do not know what to say! I shall be torn to pieces with this explosive! But…what was it the Captain said? Did he say to "deploy the divers beneath the city"? Is that where the explosive is; beneath the city? If so, the entire city of Venice will be destroyed! How can we accomplish to save _that_?

"The city is vast…it could be anywhere!" spoke Mrs. Harker, and I couldn't agree more! How will we be able to track it within time? How much time do we have, for that matter?

"What about Skinner?" Agent Sawyer had asked.

"I'd be alert for his treachery." Mr. Gray had responded. I glared in his direction, and came across a devoted, yet dangerous preposition. Depending on our probable fight this evening, I would do something that could very well put me in grave danger.

Oh, but I cannot! I am too frightened to do what I wish for this league!

"Are you alright?" Dr. Jekyll had taken me to the side, and asked me of my condition—he claimed that I was acting quite…anxious.

I asserted to be fine, trying to ease my predictable, ever-fast-beating heart.

Just before I could hardly allege to be fine, and meditate in a position to be composed, the bomb had gone off! I heard the sound, and yet, I did not feel any vibrations! It was a strange bomb, indeed!

Perhaps, then, the Fantom's plan had not worked out all along!

But, I jest…I looked up, and there, in the sky, were dozens of fireworks.

Yes, yes of course—the noise I had heard was of the fireworks…not a bomb.

I continued to watch the colorful sparks within the air as I caught the league's amused, yet frightened conversation.

"Bloody carnival…" Allan had said.

"God, I feared the worst!" Mrs. Harker had said.

"It's alright," I heard Agent Sawyer say. "We still have…"

But the real bomb had already gone off! Yes—the real bomb! I had screamed, and the grumbling grounds had already shifted my body to fall upon the mounds of crumbling rocks at my feet. I felt a strong pinch at my back. As the buildings continued to fall, and I attempted to stand up, I put a hand to my back, retrieved it, and thankfully did not yet find any blood. I was most certain there would be a bruise, however, for I could sense the pain already.

Out in the distance, I heard a man shout something over the shouts of terror within Venice, and around the Nautilus.

"We're too late…!" Mrs. Harker observably concluded. Yes, we were…and we had very few options left! Was the conference already terminated? Were the leaders of Europe safe?

I faintly heard Mr. Quatermain grumble "There must be more than one bomb!" as he inspected the buildings falling down one by one. Oh dear, I pray to my death now! I simply stood there in the action, wincing at my back, losing my eyesight, and falling faint once again.

I could barely hear the league's shouts, as if they were whispers—

"Nemo! The bombs are at the city's center. We must take out one key building."

"Yes! Get ahead of the chain and destroy the next building!"

"Interrupt the chain of destruction!"

I gripped to the side of an unknown object, and lowered myself down. All I could see was grey, everywhere.

"With a beacon at the coordinates, I could launch a rocket that would take out the domino!"

"Well, that's ridiculous! We'd never get there in time!"

I must…help…but I cannot…I needed…strength…to fight…back….

"There will be no room for error, but I tell you it could work!"

"What are you talking about, Gray's right!"

I…I cannot…

"I'm an immortal _sir_, not a _gazelle_! How can we outrun this?"

I heard a strange sound growling at the same time as someone's arms had surrounded me, and I tried to fight back, but could not find the strength. The arms picked me up, and attempted to give me support, but I did not have any strength they could leave me with to stand. I heard a voice quite near mine.

"She's _blind_!"

I thought I had heard Mr. Quatermain's voice mumble something.

"Care for a spin?" I thought I heard someone say.

"Dear God, what has happened to you, Siyana?" I thought the voice sounded familiar.

"H…Henry?"

Sounds of shuffling and motion had taken attention to my ears.

"Come on, Jekyll, Siyana—get _in_!"

Somebody needed my help…

"I'll need coordinates!"

"Can you track this thing?"

I fell out of Dr. Jekyll's support, and nearly stumbled across to what I felt to be the Captain's 'automobile'. I heard someone's supporting voice; as they helped me grope to the seat, and climb over the metal barrier that protected its outside interior. I had attempted to sit down in what I believed to be the back seat. I sensed figures around me. I was regaining my strength…but oh, it had all gone white, now! I still could not detect the voices! But yet, I did hear the sounds—thank the Lord!

"Of course!"

"Then the car will be your target. Launch when you see the flare!"

"_Right_!"

"C'mon, Jekyll; we'll need _Hyde_!"

My head lifted to take notice of Dr. Jekyll's name. Was he not in the 'automobile'?

"_No_! Hyde will never use me again!"

I questioned his choice of words. The Doctor sounded…protective.

"Then what good are you?"

Whoever had said these words, I found to be surely harmful!

I felt the mechanism take charge, and I had thought we started moving. I began to pray:

_Holy Father, who art in heaven,_

"My goodness, you are blind, Siyana!" I thought the voice sounded womanly—Mrs. Harker.

"What?"

"She's blind! Just look into her eyes!"

"Huh?" I found the voice to be my estimate as Agent Sawyer.

"Oh, bloody hell…" It sounded like Mr. Quatermain. I heard ruffling sounds of paper, and then, "Straight ahead, then turn left!"

"No, no…take a right after the canal forks!" The voice was closer to me…I identified it as Mrs. Harker's.

"We must turn left to get ahead of the…!"

Just then, my ears burst in pain of a thousand bullets whizzing past my head. I lowered my head in my hands, continuing to pray:

_On Earth, as it is in heaven…give this day our daily bread, and give us…_

"Snipers!" If I had to identify, I thought it to be Agent Sawyer's.

"Damn Skinner…he must have told them we were coming!" I had a great feeling that voice had belonged to Mr. Gray. The notion came to mind that he was the one who claimed Dr. Jekyll to be of no use just minutes ago.

_As we forgive those who trespassed against us, and leave us not, into temptation, and deliver our sins, Amen. _

"_Dorian_!" I heard Mrs. Harker shout, right next to me. I had assumed Mr. Gray had gone out of the device. And, without hesitation, I instantaneously got out myself. My feet lightly hit the ground before the rest of my body could be torn away by the moving transportation. I heard the 'automobile' cast away with voices, and voices nearby as well.

As I did know where I was going, I groped around with my arms to the closest voices I could find. I did not even stop to think they were the voices of the enemy. As I stumbled closer to the shouting voices, I began to hear them more distinctly.

"Mr. Gray—what are we to do?"

"Continue to shoot them. We'll need all the men we can get." The voice of what I assumed to be Mr. Gray sounded uninterested, and yet smiling. I searched for his body.

"Dorian?"

"Ms. Blair?!"

"Yes! Oh, yes…Dorian!"

"What on Earth do you think you're doing?" his idiom seemed to give the impression of a bit chary.

"Mr. Gray, I cannot—" I felt for his shoulder.

"Why, your eyesight is gone, is it not?"

"Yes! I—"

"Mr. Gray, do we shoot?"

I heard a few anxious groans and screeches, which made me shutter. Was I unknowingly blinding gentleman again?

"No…no shooting her…Ms. Blair, do you know what you are doing?"

Well, certainly, I did not know for sure if I was taking their eyesight…had I taken Mr. Gray's? Oh, but I'm sure he would have healed by now! Or did he merely mean if I needed help, due to my loss of senses.

"Why, Mr. Gray…who are you talking to…? Why, what am I—OW!"

It would appear as if a gunman had injured me! I felt a very sharp pain on my palm! I screeched in pain, had swung my arm to my chest in protection, and more screeches were heard. Oh, I was almost sure I was causing harm! Why was I given this…this _curse_? I have always been one to try and preserve life than take it…had I been damned to suffer this insolence in which I have already suffered? How had I gained this ability? Surely, it could not have been from their tests…could it? I could not imagine!

Suddenly, I grew panicked. I had not heard Mr. Gray's voice. Where had he gone to? Had I hurt him?

Oh…cleanly perfect! In the middle of a crumbling city, I have lost…more or less _harmed_ my only means of guidance! Was there no one to help such a…a….a victim such as I?

I must calm myself, I soon realized. It is my only hope of regaining my sight.

Yes…hope! It is the only way!

I did as much as I could to try and find the brightest of lights inside my soul…and might I tell you, it was not easy. After quite a long time of standing there, concentrating… (I truly did wonder how I was not shot then and there), and was able to regain enough sight to see my surroundings. Not distinctly, but enough to regain my absorption.

Just then, before I could carry out anything else, I heard an explosion! Almost as loud as the bombs from before, and I could not imagine what it was that went off. I could not think at all! I was in the very middle of a crumbling city (which strangely didn't seem to sound very destructive any more than it was moments ago…had the league stopped the city from falling to ruins?), typically blind, and unaccompanied!

But I meditated in the calmest manner I could execute, and sure enough my sight came back enough to see even more clearly than before! The scene before me was washed out it white, but I could still decipher the scene! I felt marvelous! The only thing I could possibly think of doing was finding the Nautilus and (hopefully) its members! I feared for our league—had we all survived? This had me remember…I could not find Mr. Gray! I did not see his body! I could only hope for the best he is alive. And yet…I noticed slightly less than a dozen blind men grope their way around the area….

I had walked…yet, ran as far as I could go; I attempted to retrace the Captain's 'automobile's' path, back to the forked canal Mrs. Harker and Mr. Quatermain had argued over before (or so I thought), and more or less found it difficult enough. But soon I could find it…I had hoped so! Down the canals I sprinted whilst lifting my skirts (for I hoped I should not fall!) and finally found our designated Nautilus! Oh, how I gleefully ran to its interior!

And then, I had not noticed the dozens of injured patients being tended by our dear Captain Nemo and Dr. Jekyll. I had seen them signal to me.

I was inside the Nautilus, looking for those who I did not quite see (my dysfunction was forming yet again!) and I heard voices, which I obviously ran to. And then…several gunshots! Who had gotten shot? Had I? But I was inside the Nautilus…safe, safe Nautilus! Oh, it had been a trap all along! And I…Siyana Blair, had fallen for the trap, yet again! I will not go back again! I will stay good! I will stay good!

I stopped in midst of the hallway, and frightfully changed my course! I had turned around—I must escape them! I had groped the halls until I found the doorway opening to the streets of Venice.  
I ran down the ship's ramp to the city's grounds, only to be snatched by unidentified arms!

I squirmed by my obvious offender! I did not want to get shot! I tell you…I did not want to get shot! _I will not be taken again!_

"Siyana…_Siyana_! Calm yourself! It's only me, Dr. Jekyll!"

_Dr. Jekyll_ was to shoot me? _The traitor! He was working with the house all along!_

"Siyana…_Siyana be calm_!"

"Dr…what is the matter?"

"It's Siyana! She won't sit still!"

The extra voice sounded like the Captain! Oh…I knew it! I just knew he was no good! They are all no good! It is all a trap! Everything has been a trap! Everything, I tell you!

I began to tear….I have gone blind, I was to be shot! Taken to that wretched home again, to be treated I tell you! _I will…not…be…taken_! I fought with all my might!

"Ms. Blair…Ms…Ms. Blair…!" I felt an extra pair of hands holding me down!

"Siyana, _it's alright_!"

"Can…can she _hear_ us, doctor?"

I did not hear Dr. Jekyll's voice for a while. Of course I am able to hear them! I had not spoken…and so they believed so!

"Let me _go_! I will not get _shot_!"

"Ms. Blair, we will not hurt you! It is only us…." I heard the Captain grumble! Why had I not blinded him them yet? I must blind them now…or I will never escape! _I must blind the Doctor and Captain!_

I screamed in angst.

"Here…"

I believed Dr. Jekyll and the Captain had given me to an alternative pair of hands; _they must be getting the materials to knock me unconscious! They intend to drug me! _

I heard noises around me in Hindustani. I was being forced to lie down on a sheet of some sort. I groped for eyes to blind. Doing so, I had heard voices in the background…

"The Fantom is M…and the hunt is still on."

"What are you talking about?"

"The Fantom is M! The very man who recruited us!"

I heard some more talking within to what I assumed to be members of this league…but I could not decipher them. I had stopped for a moment; I stopped the struggling. I stopped the screaming…the attempt to blind. I heard mumbles in Hindustani.

Our enemy…the man who caused us so much harm…was the very man we trusted to form this mission? I had been tricked…_again_? _The Fantom is M_? _I have had enough of this betrayal! I should simply kill them all! I have been tricked for the second and last time…I had not known to trust this league and its members…but I fear I did; enough to be a joke! _

I believe I had angrily screamed far more loudly than I had that evening. I had fought with all my might at those who held me down.

"Good god, what has gotten into her?" I heard a familiar voice say. Was it Mr. Quatermain?

But I had not stopped screaming.

I then heard Dr. Jekyll's voice (I believe I can decipher his voice distinctly now.):

"I don't know…she accused us of wanting to shoot her. I fear she might be suffering from a mild case of chronic anxiety."

"Mild?"

I felt extra hands holding me. I…I do not believe it…_I was being strapped down to a table!_ Oh, I had feared this! _It is happening again! _It is only a matter of time…

"Where are the others?"

The league was ignoring me know. They had put the dirty work to others.

"Dorian's missing in action…and Mr. Skinner must have fled when he realized we knew."

"And Sawyer?"

"He'll live to fight another day."

"Don't worry…I've had my fill of throats for this evening."

There was a silence for a moment…then, I sensed a body hovering over me….

Oh, I feared the worst!

"Here…"

I felt my arm being held down.

"_NO!_" I screamed, as I felt the familiar pinch in my veins.

"_Siyana I'm sorry…_" It was Dr. Jekyll.

Silence….and then,

"Captain!"

The hovering body had shifted away from me.

I could barely hear these next words:

"It was Gray…not Skinner…Gray's tricked us all!"

Who was speaking? Had I not predicted so? I knew Mr. Gray had been the traitor all along! I knew it! Mr. Gray was but one of the many traitors…

I…I fear this is the end for I! _I fear…I—I fear…_

_I thought I had heard a noise…such a strange noise…_

"_What is it?"_

"_The sound of treachery!"_

_It is nearly the end…this is it…_

_This is the end……_

(A/N: No…I don't mean this is the end of the story. Siyana's just saying that—she's been put to sleep.)

Dr. Jekyll's Diary

A/N: No, I'm not going to give out a full entry of Jekyll's diary from his experience in Venice. I'm just "showing" a part in his "written diary" where he mentions Siyana's condition. He gives us a bit of a lecture on Siyana's "anxiety neurosis", in a doctoral/concerned somewhat-friend POV.

June 17, 1899

…The league's task in Venice, Italy had brought about much alarm in Ms. Blair, however. From her unsystematic outbursts and sadistic rampages I fear, as a doctor, I am observing at a ghastly case of anxiety neurosis, or chronic anxiety. It is quite unfortunate for Ms. Blair to be suffering from such a horrible nuisance, especially after her disturbing admission just last night. I do fear what Ms. Blair had attempted to describe was part of a medical asylum. I would have to be reminded to check up on her condition—ensure for any promising signs of the disorder: dizziness, insomnia, high blood pressure, fatigue, general weakness, headache, breathlessness, rapid pulse and palpitations. She gives off a bizarre sense of illumination at certain times, and at others cases of severe blindness. These, as no certain symptoms of chronic anxiety, I fear are to be separate disarrays Ms. Blair undergoes. As a doctor, I am able to understand the chaotic physical and mental situation Siyana Blair must endure, and seeing such a case, I am quite concerned as to what purpose she serves in this League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. And yet, she maintains to not be troubled by Hyde….


	10. M's Biggest Mistake

The Diaries of an Enigmatic Manipulator

A/N: Just as a quick note reminder, not a lot of people in the league know what Siyana does, except for Captain Nemo and Dorian Gray. In the recording disc, Gray mentions what he had stolen from Siyana, but still doesn't reveal what she does, exactly, to everyone else.

Also, thanks to everyone who have been reading The Diaries of an Enigmatic Manipulator and adding it to their favorites. It's such a treat to see the many members of an active audience. 

The Mediterranean Sea, Atlantic Ocean, 1899

_It is my time now…it is my time to die. I can see the light now; it shines greatly, far greater than anything I could have ever imagined. My mind is filled with luminosity, and I can feel nothing but a calm sensation surrounding my entire aura. I see nothing else but an increasing radiance. It is powerful…I feel powerful. _

_I sense a curing power come over me…my mind is in a state of heaven, where wrongs may so abide me. _

_Oh, do I undergo such a peace! I could have never asked for anything better! _

_And yet, it is an increasing condition of my mind I endure, which is still not at ease…a feeling I cannot shake; a darkness that will refuse to be set off to the light…_

_And it continues to fight. The light has overpowered me…I can feel it in my bones!_

_And yet, I had just moments ago believed in a sense I had not anymore belonged to my body, but my soul released to forever joy. But I can feel it all now…a slight sting to my left arm…a tender sore at my back…it is all coming back! I do not yet feel dead! I cry at the sorrow of leaving this forever radiance…and I say my farewell, until we meet again, my dear eternal slumber…._

"OH!" I woke to the unfamiliar surroundings of the Nautilus infirmary. How is that I am still alive? They had taken my life just moments ago…

Only injured crewmembers surrounded me, dozing off to what I hoped was a peaceful slumber…and yet, only I was there, conscious of my surroundings.

I got up, quite calm…and yet, wary. Something was not right…

I realized I was still to be dressed in my golden-brown dress, my hair still within its long braid. How long had I been cataleptic? Was I truly even in the Nautilus at all…?

But as I sprinted down the glorious ship's halls, I found all of the busily working crew to be at their normal pace, and hurriedly searched for the league. I must say, I did all my best to try and remember the last thing I could…and I was able to faintly recall memories of our attempt to stop the Fantom's interference in Venice. I had stopped one of the good Captain's crewmen, praying to the Lord he spoke English.

"Excuse me, do you know where the league is?"

He seemed to know who I was. "Yes, the Captain and everyone else are in the dining room."

Dining room…I think I know where that is.

"Thank you!"

I ran towards my destination, only to be stopped by a piercing sound! I could not identify it, but it was a very high pitched, twittering sound! I and many of the crewmen around me had to cover our ears in attempt to block the sound! But, at the same time, I ran to the league. Perhaps they knew the cause of this sound!

I did eventually find the room I was looking for just moments before the piercing sound discontinued, and the league were indeed inside. As I entered the room, Dr. Jekyll gave me a wary look, and the Captain was putting on some kind of recording disc. I greeted the Doctor and the others with a simple nod, but they all seemed to turn to the phonograph, which soon played a very curious message.

A noise was being made. "Ready professor?" spoke an unidentified woman. "Recording."

"Gentlemen…if you're hearing this, then every step leading up to it has gone as planned." M spoke.

So the disc was a recording from M…was this the origin of the sound? What did he have to say? Oh, I had a strange feeling about this!

"And I have been true to the goals set to me….yes, it's me, Dorian. As you know by now, I'm no loyal son of the Empire. My loyalty to Mr. M comes in no small part from his possession...something I hold very dear to my heart...something I would do anything to regain."

How peculiar…what, exactly, did M acquire in which Mr. Gray had desired to reclaim? As well, at that moment Dr. Jekyll had made a strange notice of twinge of some sort…or, at least, that is what I presumed. Mrs. Harker had noticed it as well.

"Are you alright?" she asked him.

"My ears hurt. It's nothing."

M continued…

"Everything so far has been misdirection. Sanderson Reed, the assassins in Kenya, your recruitment and mission, the secret conference: a myth."

As I continued to listen to M's cutting words, my insides have felt as if they were growing lighter and lighter. I feared I would lose my eyesight again, but to my surprise, my vision stayed crystal clear….

"Even the league itself; there is no league. There never was. It was a ruse to get me closer to my goals."

I…I didn't know what to say! I just felt so _used_!

"He likes the sound of his own voice." Tom commented.

Yes, Mr. Sawyer…although I can assure confidence is something _I _strongly lack….

A hint of jealousy struck my mind just then.

"You see, I want you, each of you, even tired old Quatermain…because he'll capture Hyde whereas all others have failed."

I gave my sympathies towards Dr. Jekyll. And, though, as M spoke of wanting each of us, I couldn't help but feel bemused as to what M could gain from me. My capability to blind others I would suppose, but how on Earth would he be able to do such a thing?

"The question is why. Why all this mask and mystery? Because in the war to come, I intend to wield the greatest weapon of all: the power of the League itself."

W…what? But how…?

"To that end, I set my wolf among you sheep…."

"Growl." spoke Dorian, indicating he was the specified wolf. I could help but cock my eyebrow at his entertaining comment. And yet…oh, Mr. Gray had betrayed us so! It was in despicable! And…and I had _followed _Mr. Gray in Venice, only for my hopes of guidance to be _pulverized_!

"…who'll gain your trust, quietly lead you astray…." M said.

"And all the while I'll collect you…." Dorian said. Whatever did he mean by…collect? Collect as in assemble ourselves together as a league? But no, for as my questions were soon horridly confirmed…

"…the parts of you I need: Nemo's science,"

"Magnesium phosphorus…!" Mina spoke, and I glanced in her direction. As I did so, I also noticed Dr. Jekyll strangely and slowly walk towards a hanging black mirror…

But Mr. Gray continued his unspeakable revelation. "…Skinner's skin sample, Jekyll's potion, Siyana's genes, and Mina's blood."

My _what_? I looked down at my hand in which had been slashed in Venice, which, now, had been anonymously wrapped. Had…_had Mr. Gray done that_?

"He's stolen us…and we let him." Dr. Jekyll commented, with pure venom in his voice. I could not have agreed more! It is not fair for me to be unaware of my surroundings! If I had not been blinded so, I would not have let Mr. Dorian Gray slice my palm!

"If you fail to save Venice, then I get my war. And if you succeed, well, it's a small price to pay for Gray to go about his task." M spoke.

"War will come, sooner or later, as inevitable as summer into autumn."

Not if we are able to stop it! I fear the very thought of a world-wide war…I merely shivered! And I must say, I was quite impressed by my impervious bravery this evening!

"Now, some of you, perhaps Quatermain if he isn't dead, will pause to ask why I'm letting you know all this. What fool reveals his stratagem before the game is over?"

There was a pause, and I unsuccessfully attempted to contemplate the possibilities.

"It is over, for you..."

My heart sunk; my weight lifted.

"...because my voice isn't the only sound being made."

I feared the worst.

"While I've rambled on, a secondary layer of inaudible sound, higher than humans can hear, audible to dogs and lower animals, has been heard by crystal sensors dotted about your vessel…"

It was a distraction. This is all a distraction….

This ship was filled with...!

"Senses…attached…to bombs." Dorian spoke.

My eyes widened as the league and I looked at each other in horror.

A laugh was heard on the recording.

"'Bomb' voyage…"

I gasped. The Captain immediately smashed the phonograph on the floor. We all glared into each other's eyes for what we were convinced to be the last time as Nautilus shook in destruction.

The league and a few crewmembers fell to the left side of the room as the explosion went off. I, myself, hit the wall, and nearly bumped into Agent Sawyer. Oh…we were to die! We were to die! The Captain had struggled to climb out the dining room and to the control room, and the league and I followed.

And yet, my perception had increasingly, if not instantly gone white! I hugged the sides of the control room's wall as I prayed to the Lord.

_Our father, who art in heaven…_

"OUT OF THE WAY!" I heard to whom I thought was to be Nemo, shout.

"We have to surface!"

"We're taking in too much water! Controls are not responding!"

Oh good Lord, what are we to do? We are done forth, I say, DONE FORTH!

And just then, as I continued to pray and struggle to my lack of vision to such a dangerous situation, I began to tear.

I began to continue my prayer out loud (where it was more a mumble), for I believed we all could have used some words of hope.

"Give us this day, our daily bread, and give us those trespasses, as we forgive those who trespassed against us, and lead us not, into temptation, and deliver our sins from evil..."

I felt the sense that someone was listening to my words, or watching my attempt to pray besides my choking down the constant flow of tears.

"Primary engine room almost full!" I heard a man say. "Aft bulkhead open. Pump valves are jammed!"

"_Seal it off!_"

"But there are _men_ in there, Captain!" I believed the man was to be a crewmember, then.

"For the greater good, we must _seal it_!"

I gave a heavy sigh, and prayed again for the soon-to-be-drowned crewmen. This time, I tried yet another prayer.

"Hail Mary, full of grace…"

"_What are you talking about?_" I heard someone shout. It sounded like the doctor. Was he concerned for the men as well?

As I prayed constantly, my aura began to feel a bit lighter. And so I prayed, and prayed, and prayed, all aloud, until to the point where I heard someone mumble.

"Siyana…you're…you're…_glowing_!"

I had stopped, and looked around for my speaker.

I had attempted to grope for them, and had nearly tripped and fallen before unidentified arms caught me.

"I have you, Siyana, I have you."

I believed them to be Agent Sawyer's words.

We had held on to each other for what I assumed to be eternity, simply waiting for our time to end; for the time in which the Nautilus would sink to the bottom of the ocean, and we would be stranded, if not drowned. I continued to pray for at least ten times, and then, out of nowhere, instead of feeling weightless by being pulled down by the pressure of the sea, I felt pressured against the wall very tightly as my heart raced in hope. This could have only meant one thing—_the Nautilus was lifting_! But who could have done this?

For the next minute or so as this feeling of hope and pressure occurred, my sight had slowly begun to return…I could make out certain images of people and thrown over furniture. As it came back even more, I was able to make out pipes and controls, then, more descriptively, _leaking_ pipes and _wrecked_ controls.

The ship had suddenly seemed to be weightless again, and then, we all fell under the pressure once more. The room had leveled off, and light seeped in through the windows.

We had surfaced.

I had smiled…actually smiled…and then, I began to laugh. Agent Sawyer, who I had been holding on to this entire time, laughed for joy as well. I was able to faintly see his smile. And, as I laughed harder, smiled wider, and regained my vision fully, I could surly see my skin give off such a golden radiance I have never seen before. I was, indeed, _glowing_.

The league and a few crewmembers, and soon enough, I began to pick up all fallen pieces of furniture and set them upright. I had looked around the room, to all the other members and looking to see if everyone was okay, and noticed Dr. Jekyll's absence. Where was he? Was he injured?

Soon enough, the good Doctor had walked in on us, dressed in dry clothes, hands behind his back.

He smiled. The other members seemed to give him a thankful glance, although mine was confused. Mr. Quatermain gave him a 'thumbs-up'.

"Let's not make a saint out of a sinner. Next time he may not be so helpful."

Whatever did he mean?

"Can we still follow Gray, or…?" he directed to Mr. Q.

Allan sighed. "Well, we were the faster, but now we're the tortoise to his hare." The good Doctor helped him reclaim a fallen chair.

"So we're done." he responded, disheartened.

"No…we're alive. If M has any ideas to the contrary that gives us an edge."

I whipped my head up to Agent Sawyer, who was nearly inches from me. He directed to the rest of the league; he even looked in my direction in which I nearly gave a concerned expression.

The Captain instead, gave a doubtful expression. Shaking his head, he spoke, "The sea is vast…he could be anywhere."

"Yeah, well, I'm an optimist. Now maybe that's a crime to you twist up so-and-so's, but it keeps _me_ from going _crazy_." he said, matter-of-factly, whilst retrieving a fallen table.

I gave Agent Sawyer a slighted glare.

"You're optimism's out of place." Mina spoke, incredulously.

I nearly jumped as Tom Sawyer smacked a silver bottle upon the table. He eyed Mrs. Harker.

"You're wrong. Cause we'll get our man…."

Mr. Q sat down. We all seemed to be listening intently to Tom's words.

"…at least I will."

There was a pause, and I waited anxiously for him to continue.

"That other agent I told you about…was my childhood friend...."

I viewed the grief in his voice. At a glance, I saw Captain Nemo's sentimental appearance for his words. He seemed quite touched by it, as was I.

"…We were agents together…until the Fantom shot him dead." I could hear the pure venom in his voice!

"Now _you_ can be done. But I am _not_. _I will avenge his death_."

I…I did not know what to say. Tom's words have touched me, and yet…

Dr. Jekyll walked in from out of the corner, shrugging his shoulders. "It's not about any one of us Tom…it's bigger than that." he spoke. Tom paced hastily to the Doctor.

"Yes it is, _Jekyll_." I feared Agent Sawyer was getting just a tad testy. Then he calmed;

"The fate of the world is in our hands…" he paused for us to look at each other. I eyed him, discretely, with eyes of reliance.

"…_the world_." He let us sink it in.

"So M tricked you. He brought you all together _and you walked straight into his trap._ _But_, the way that I see it, _that was his big mistake. He brought you together_."

His words of confidence were so…_so uplifting_!

"I mean, look at all of us. Before this league was assembled we would probably have never met each other. We've realized a lot more about each other than we could have possibly imagined. And M thought trying to trick us would pull us apart…but it's the complete opposite."

Tom lifted his arm, indicating to each one of us.

"Quatermain is the best one-shot hunter I've ever come across…and, and I don't think I've ever seen a ship as big as the Nautilus."

Mr. Q and the Captain gave appreciative glances.

"I've never met a vampire before…and seeing someone as brawn as Hyde will always make me think twice about how tough I think I am."

I saw Dr. Jekyll make an amused face.

"Even Siyana…she's one of the most hopeful women I've ever met, due to her ability to give off streams of powerful light."

I smiled in admiration; such sweet words!

"_He brought us together._" he repeated.

"And I'm not about to let him tear us apart."

There was a point as it all sank in, gleefully. "He has a point." Dr. Jekyll spoke, smiling. I smiled as well.

Mr. Quatermain inhaled; "So the boy becomes a man." he said descriptively.

Tom contemplated the tribute.

"Perhaps a leader of men…"

"_And women…_" Mrs. Harker suggested. I could not have said better words! And I smiled, knowing we were ready to take on anything the Fantom throws at us. We were ready to fight.

Just then, a crewmember burst through the door. "We're getting a signal!" he spoke.

A signal? Did he mean a message?

The league and I hurriedly followed the man to a small room. Inside, a crewmember was listening in onto a machine, and writing down its results.

"Morse code…" Mr. Q said, perceptibly.

"What's it say?" asked Mina.

""Hello my freaky darlings."" said the man, raising his eyebrows. Poor man must wonder what crazed fools we were to receive such messages! Ha!

And yet, this message sounded much like…

"Skinner?" Tom finished my thought.

The crewmember astonished us all. "Uh…_hiding on board little fish_…_with Gray and M_…_East by Northeast_…_follow my lead_."

A/N: Extra scene with Tom speaking before Skinner's message was a deleted scene, and then I added some extra words to his dialogue. (Starting from "I mean, look at all of us.", and ending at "And I'm not about to let him tear us apart.")


	11. Remembering the Beautiful Game

The Diaries of an Enigmatic Manipulator

A/N: You know, when I was writing this chapter, it came across to me that Siyana is a lot like that star/woman played by Claire Danes in the movie Stardust. Ironically, Jason Flemyng is in that movie as well.

Somewhere (I believe) in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, 1899

Due to Agent Tom Sawyer's encouraging words and Mr. Skinner's loyal memorandum, the entire crew, the league and I have given the injured Nautilus a swift recovery within about a day. Oh, and how tired I am! Agent Sawyer had been working in the engine room, helping to fix up all the broken pressurized pipes and water shafts. Mrs. Harker and Dr. Jekyll worked in the infirmary, curing and patching up all wounded crewmen. Captain Nemo had been working in the stateroom, drawing and planning out our headings to where Mr. Skinner said he would meet us, and I, although useless otherwise, was able to fix any busted lighting, and charge the solar panels, which once fully operational, will help operate the machinery and electricity within the ship. So, if I must say so myself, I had quite the important job. I was indeed proud of my success! Although from my curiosity, I have not seen Mr. Quatermain around any time today. I wondered what he had been up to. Within early morning of the next day, however, we all met in the stateroom, ready to witness our good work put to hand and the Nautilus to be gliding out into the open sea once more. Once all gathered and everything was put to order, Mr. Quatermain congratulated us for our hard labor.

"Good work…all of you." he turned to our dear Captain Nemo. "Captain?"

The two men bowed heads to each other, and then, Captain Nemo stood tall and gave his orders.

"All ahead, full!"

A crewman pulled a lever in which once lay on its highest setting, read 'full', and the Nautilus was off.

"If Skinner's headings are correct, we will pass through the treacherous Straits of Tartary, and enter the Amur River, which empties out into the frozen lakes of Mongolia, virtually inaccessible to outsiders."

How inviting.

It took us about a day or less to reach our destination. Within that time, we had all been occupied to prepare what we needed and our plans for once settling there. Although I wasn't too preoccupied with these deeds, I had nearly calmed myself to arrange for the worst once come. If I were to fully operate my abilities, I must be completely and utterly in focus. I have indeed realized my power to give off illumination were to be stronger once in danger, and subconsciously my power is in action to defend, however I am capable of giving off a little radiance when in high spirits. However, if I am to be physically incapable to see what I am doing, I am more than harmful to my colleagues and not ready to fight our enemy properly. If I am to be blind, I must be ready. If I am to be blind, I must be calm, and know my surroundings. I must connect with my inner sense and be familiar with what other resources I could use to realize my environment. If I am to be blind, I must see otherwise.

I took place in my cabin for about the full day, concentrating on my worst fears and becoming blind, so I can then practice the way I see and sense otherwise. After a while, however, I have reached the point where I am able to control my fears and deliberate on returning my sight! It is exhilarating to have this much controlled power! And yet, I have fallen tired. A nice walk around the ship shall keep my spirits up, I believe.

Once passed the library, I found my way inside the peaceful tranquility of it all. The old smell of year-old novels, the warmth of the blazing fireplace at the south end, and the silently beautiful reminiscence of the grand piano at its centre. Now, I have not been one to know a great collection of songs by heart, but music has always been an enlightened part of me in which I loved. I can remember before the house was I a part of the Community Church Choir and had taken many lessons a few blocks down of my loft on every Wednesdays…oh, I do recall! My elderly piano teacher, the lovely Mrs. Bryant, would help me so well! And yet, now I cannot remember much but only bits and pieces of a few songs!

I sat down on the glossy pearl bench, and lifted the dusty cover in which the keys lay underneath. I rested my hands upon them, as if my touch could help me remember the correct order of keys. It did not, in a sense.

I attempted to play the mere beginning to Symphonie Nr. 9 by L.v. Beethoven, and stopped in midst due to my lack of commemoration. I tried a bit here and there of Allein Gott In Der Hoh Sei Eh by N. Decius and Wachet Auf, Ruft Uns Die Stimme by J.S. Bach, and simply failed to play anything but a few seconds of a melody! Menuett In G Major WoO 10-2 (L.v. Beethoven), Prelude Op. 28 No. 7 (F. Chopin), Für Elise (L.v. Beethoven), and Etude Op. 10-3 "Chanson de l'adieu" (F. Chopin) failed as well.

Simply frustrated, I had slammed my palms against the alignment of keys, resulting in an unharmonious sound! I grasped my head; it is as if I can remember nothing peaceful of my life, which had all happened before the home. It had taken my pride and joy—merely, it took _me_! My soul was taken that day, along with anything I would yearn for recalling.

But I mustn't have such a mere frustration lose my concentration. If so, how will I be able to defeat the Fantom? And so I tried again. This time, I attempted to play Pachelbel's famous "Canon In D".

I closed my eyes, playing the song within my head. I remember it to be a beautiful song…Pachelbel's unique sense of music I can recall filling my early years on my own with such tranquility. It began to play within my head, the easy wave of my fingers. I used my second hand to add a harmonious rhythm. It seemed to come back to me now, flowing like a soft current of water through my mind, and on and on the melody played not only in my head, but through my ears. I smiled through the soft harmony that echoed the room—I was remembering! And it sounded oh so beautiful! Oh, if only I could record this audio of the angels on paper—if only you could know! I preceded so on for about seven full minutes…and yet, it lasted but a lifetime! This is what I had missed all these years; the sweet, sweet accord of my youngest years lifting up to heaven in sound—the peace! _I do remember the peace!_ What a joy I was then, and as I opened my eyes, watching my radiant, softly glowing hands glide the keyboard in magic, I looked over to see Dr. Jekyll standing in the door frame.

"That was beautiful." he murmured.

I smiled in return.

Soon enough we arrived at our destination in Mongolia. I say, even inside the Nautilus was I freezing! I had to hold my own arms in hope of staying warm, which really did not help at all.

The Captain, once announcing our arrival, all asked for our assembly on deck. We were all to be ready for the worst. I suspect those such as Agent Sawyer, Mr. Quatermain, Captain Nemo, and possibly even Mrs. Harker to be stocked with weapons. I, myself, have had luck by coming across a small silver dagger in which I held onto at the side of my dress. Besides that, I really didn't have much I needed to equip with.

Before climbing up the once treacherous ladder to the deck, the Captain and his crew equipped us with long, heavy white fur coats, goggles, and other necessities for our travel. We had all put on our coats before greeting the snowy, chilly air, and I found it interesting to realize that the Captain's own coat was not white, but a dark blue to match his uniformed armor. I supposed it had to do with his customs.

We greeted a view consisting of a blue-grey sky, white mountains, and a white layer of snow at the ground, supporting a small village.

"Peasant settlements…" Mrs. Harker observed.

"They're all deserted." said Mr. Quatermain.

"Why deserted?" asked Mrs. Harker.

Just then, behind a few mountains on the Eastern way, a faint detonation was heard, and the sky shouted in reds and oranges. I would believe that was where our purpose lay.

"Fear, no doubt." said the Captain, in his deep, strong voice.

We had taken at least a half an hour or slightly less putting on the rest of our gear to make our travels through the snow and to where M and his destruction was, and to where Mr. Skinner will once again rejoin us and fill us in on what we are up against. The league, me, and dozens of crewmembers attempted to climb off the ship's main deck and on the snowy grounds (which was not too much of a distance—the Nautilus had only risen about twenty feet above the ice—it could not go further) with enough struggle itself. And, once upon the snow, I must say, we traveled such a horrid, brutal way in which I have never faced before! It was certainly not pleasant above the terrorizing wind and snow, and although our clothing kept us warm, I felt as if I could walk no longer after merely a mile! There was hardly any resting, and we had walked at least a dozen miles before we came into view with a large, fiery fortress which not only made me feel warmer already, but terrified me. But, I thought, I must stay brave.

"M's summer retreat!" Agent Sawyer joked above the whirl of freezing winds.

"This is where Skinner signaled he'd meet us—so we wait." ordered Mr. Quatermain.

Thanks to Mr. Skinner, he had found us a nice cave to settle in as we waited for his arrival. Mr. Quatermain volunteered to wait outside for him and watch the cave while a few crewmembers assembled a fire in the middle. As everyone waited in the corners of the cave, and Dr. Jekyll cared for a few crewmen who must have suffered from some damage to due to the frozen voyage, I myself warmed up to the fire heartily and unintentionally glowed in bliss. And so, the dark cave grew lighter on my behalf. And, if it had not been my imagination, I believe the cave had gotten warmer too…

Not before long did we all hear Mr. Quatermain make a noise outside, and Mrs. Harker and Captain Nemo went to investigate. I had heard some chatting between the three, and then I viewed as Mrs. Harker jumped and gasped in surprise! I feared as to what had happened! Some more chatting was made (this time the voices sounded a bit harsh…I do wonder what had happened to Mrs. Harker—until I recognized an extra, familiar voice in which I presumed to be Mr. Skinner), and the three returned to the cave, accompanied by a recognizable invisible man.

He had been invisible…and yet, he had to be exposed to the cold to do so! I feared as to how Mr. Skinner must feel to be bare under this entire frozen atmosphere! My light seemed to fade. Hurriedly, I grabbed a coat and some extra things conserved for our long lost member, and he gratefully took them.

Once putting on his coat and glasses, and covering his head with greasepaint, he spoke:

"With all the suspicion on the ship, I knew you wouldn't believe I wasn't the spy. I thought it was best to…_disappear_."

I witnessed Dr. Jekyll express a guilty feeling.

"So what are we dealing with?" asked Mr. Quatermain, getting serious.

Mr. Skinner looked at all of us, took a pause, and began; "The fortress is vast. Furnaces produce iron for making M's weapons of destruction. They're pieces together on the factory floor by a private army of ruthless men who share his vision. But the worst was to come; in the dry dock, M's best minds…_pervert_ Nemo's dream."

"_The Nautilus?_" said the Captain, horrified.

"Nautili. There's eight, for now." he responded.

"Good God…" I said, unintentionally.

"What about the kidnapped scientists?" asked the Captain.

"M holds their families hostage. The men work, or the women and children die."

I believe the look on my face just then would have been the most sickened expression I have ever made. My eyesight blurred just a bit.

"_Monstrous…_" spoke the Captain.

I would not have replied in a different way.

"Oh, that isn't the half of it." said Mr. Skinner, dreading me quite the amount. "The scientists are forced to work night and day to make new versions of us. Invisible spies, and army of Hydes, vampiric assassins, blinding protectors; M leaves for Europe today with a sample of the chemicals to sell to the most eager nation."

"I'll not let my evil infect the world." spoke the Doctor, fuming.

"Do you think any of us feel differently?" said Mrs. Harker, who to my surprise had been standing in the cave's entrance, looking out. I suppose she was guarding in place of Mr. Q.

"_I'm afraid of my power falling into the wrong hands_; who knows what havoc will arise if we fail?" I said.

"Chimney pipes laced to buildings and bombs in the furnaces would make quite a bang. But someone needs to blow that place to hell, and I _am_ least likely to be seen."

Why…I was impressed! I have never seen this side of Mr. Skinner before! I smiled on his behalf. It was certainly much better than his constant joking attitude, in my opinion.

"Skinner, I didn't know you were such a barefaced liar." Mr. Quatermain grumbled. In response, Mr. Skinner _and I_ gave him a look of slightly irritated curiosity.

"…all this time, pretending that you weren't a hero?" he finished.

Mr. Skinner grinned with appreciation for the hunter's joke. I resisted the urge to 'roll my eyes'.

"Well, shut up or I'll come to my senses!" he spoke. "Besides…_any more like me, and I'll lose the franchise._"

Just then, Agent Sawyer jumped up and cocked his rifle in an angrily manner. Mr. Q stopped his rage.

"No…this cannot be a hunt to the death. More's the pity."

He directed to us, then. "We must take M alive if his secrets are to be uncovered."

"Not Gray…" I heard Mrs. Harker say, still standing out to face the cold. "He's lived long enough."

"Oh, I'll handle him!" Mr. Sawyer offered, in what I believed to be a tone of showing off. I feared our American Agent was not fit to fight the harmful immortal; the young and innocent against the old and experienced. I shivered.

"No!" Mrs. Harker interrupted, calming my thoughts. There was something in her voice, besides the anger, that I couldn't quite place. Was it protection, maybe? Or had it been betrayal?

Then our orders were given.

"Nemo, you and Hyde will free the prisoners. Sawyer and I will deal with M."

What could I do, then? I couldn't not think of it, until, it had struck me as just plain obvious. I turned to Mr. Skinner.

"Let me accompany you. I can blind those who might come across in our path, and notice the floating quantity of dynamite."

He nodded his head, and once we all knew what we were to do, Mr. Quatermain nodded his head as well.

Looking at each and every one of us, and with a sly smile, he finally confirmed:

"Then the game is on."


	12. Opened Eyes

The Diaries of an Enigmatic Manipulator

A/N: Last chapter yaaay! Thank you all to those who have been reading.

Somewhere in Mongolia/M's "summer retreat", 1899

Our group hid behind a large snow-covered boulder once outside M's fortress. The plan was for Mr. Skinner and Mr. Hyde to 'distract' the guards before we could go in. Dr. Jekyll changed as quietly as he could while Mr. Skinner went ahead and got rid of the first lookout for us.

"Do you mind?" he playfully joked, while taking the man's gun, and whacking his again and again with the darn thing. "Night night!" he said, whilst hitting him for the last time. I did feel a little sorry for him. As Mr. Skinner did so, Mr. Edward Hyde went onward to attack the other man. Mrs. Harker, to my surprise, transformed into a flock of bats (in which I have never seen her do before), and fly in through several sets of small windows above the two guards.

Once the men were down, the rest of us were able to enter through the heavy steel door, in which Mr. Edward was able to willingly move for us.

We were silent as we made way into the fortress, viewing the giant stone statues of ancient ruins and looked up at the broken ceiling which let in trickles of snow, light, and cold air to fall through. I wondered what this place was before M used it for his lair.

The Captain spread out his men left and right. The league, now fully disposed of the coats and snow gear, all met in the center of the room. Mr. Skinner was dressed in his normal grease-painted, black-coated and black hat, glasses, and gloved self, carrying several cartridges of dynamite. Mrs. Harker was wearing an abnormally armor-like black dress, her hair was down and curled, and her nails were abnormally elongated. I took into consideration that that was due to her vampiric nature. Other than that, everyone's attire seemed normal, with the extra carrying of weapons.

The way we all looked at each other—oh, how it was unbearable! We looked into each other's eyes as if we would never see each other again. I could not stand it; either I was growing teary, or my vision was blurred. But I mustn't be sad. This is the time where I must be stronger than ever.

And then, Edward Hyde did something quite odd. He put his hand in the center of our human-forming circle, looking at us to do so as well, expectantly. Mrs. Harker then placed her hand on top of Edward's, then the Captain put his on top of Mrs. Harker's, then Agent Sawyer's on top of his, then Mr. Skinner, then I, then finally Mr. Quatermain adding to the pile. It would seem as if we had formed a 'go-team!' cheer departure. Once looking into each other's eyes for what we believed to be the last time, our hands collapsed, and we departed our ways.

I stood by Mr. Skinner, who had given me the dynamite so he could work to strip his clothing and accessories, and wipe the paint from his face. Soon enough, he was completely invisible. I offered his transparent body the dynamite, and he took it from my grasp, hauling it onto his shoulder.

"Let's go…" he murmured, and we ran off, my hands already glowing from the excitement.

We moved past several columns in the fortress to where the heating systems were held. It wasn't long I was trying to keep up with Mr. Skinner's lead when I heard a voice over some kind of loudspeaker. "Prepare the armaments for shipment. Prepare the armaments for shipment." it said.

Mr. Skinner must have seen my curiosity when he said, "That's for the industrial units—must be getting ready to export the weapons."

He didn't give me time to think. He kept on moving. "That means we have to hurry up."

I ran after the floating cartridges of dynamite to an area of the fortress where up ahead I could see several pipes and machinery, in which must have been the heaters and boilers; the area seemed very steamy and hot, and I could hear Mr. Skinner panting already. Before Mr. Skinner was able to do his task, a guard was walking up ahead! I knew at that moment that it was my job to be rid of him.

When he finally caught sight of us, he yelled "Hey!" and ran towards us, about to fire his rifle. Before he could do so, however, I ran past Mr. Skinner, basically pushed him back, quickly warned him to close his eyes, and I 'fired my weapon' at the man. To my surprise, my vision had only gone blind for the few seconds I released my light on the man (who screamed in agony and fell to the ground blind, dropping his gun and grasping his burning eyeballs), and then I received my vision almost instantaneously!

Before I could embrace my joy, Mr. Skinner hurriedly walked past me and we entered the smokestacks. He walked past the machinery, panting heavily (it _was_ quite hot…and _I_ was the one wearing clothing!), and once halfway through, Rodney Skinner took a cartridge of dynamite, set it ticking, and placed it under one of the heaters. As he continued to set the dynamite and set them in their rightful places around the factory floor and I blinded several men in our way, becoming more and more proud of my work. I could hear the many guards moan over their incapability.

As we approached further into the area, we came near the furnaces that melted iron for M's weapons. Just as it was pouring the metal into a large stony pot, Mr. Skinner sent another dynamite ticking, and as he bent down to place it next to the furnace, some of the hot sparks fell on his back!

"Ow!" he cried.

I hurried to his side. "Are you all right?" I asked.

"Yeah…yeah…that's the last of the dynamite. We should be all set. Let's go and see if we can find the others."

We passed through halls of expensive royalty; chairs, rugs, vases and paintings lined the grey stone halls and several doors and archways led us down different places in which confused my sense of direction. Mr. Skinner led me the way, however, for he of course had been inside the fortress before. We passed a few guardsmen in whom I automatically blinded as soon as they were within my sight, and gratefully my own injury passed as soon as I was done with my small combat. We found it difficult to come across another league member; we were roaming for about an hour when we heard a struggle up ahead in the halls. I ran ahead, and heard Mr. Skinner's bare footprints follow behind. I was able to hear several gunshots, and then, we had both stopped once we saw Agent Sawyer run for his life into a room and a large spur of flames follow him closely behind! The flames had stopped, and what I believed to be a man of steel—a man, perhaps, covered head to toe with armor—had walked robotically after our friend, and carrying to what we assumed to be a flamethrower! I had looked back to try and sense of Mr. Skinner was viewing as well, but I had soon heard invisible footsteps run ahead of me.

I had come to a room blazing upon fire, and could not determine whether Mr. Skinner had gone in or not! I had called his name, but received no answer. Otherwise, Tom was in there, and for all I know he could be trapped! I entered the room (which was indeed blazing with threatening heat), and squinted my eyes to defend from the fires and see if I can witness any moving figures. After about a minute of dodging flames and searching for figures or voices in the room, I heard this Mr. Skinner's voice!

"Sawyer—run for it!" he yelled, and then I heard him continuously yell in pain, which soon died off in the distance! Then, I heard a faint explosion! Where were Mr. Skinner and Mr. Sawyer?! Was Mr. Skinner hurt—is he being burned by the flames?! I was scared! And I had almost gone fully blind before I had stopped myself to stay calm and search for either man! Oh, and the heat was just unbearable!

I had come to a clearing in the corner of the room where several books lay fallen (I assumed this room used to be a library—such a shame of a waste), and a faint image of something moving. I then saw Agent Sawyer approach the same moving object and asked; "Skinner?"! Was the thing on the ground slightly shaking Mr. Skinner?! I could see it better as I approached him—his invisible body was _covered_ in several sickening layers of melting skin and what I believed to be third degree burns!

"That's the last time I play with matches!" he joked. Oh, Mr. Skinner—how can he joke at a time like this?!

I had just approached the two when I heard a gunshot, and I viewed as a floating body-covering of ashes dropped a gun, and instead withdrew a knife in which he held to Agent Sawyer's throat! He forced Agent Sawyer to get up from Mr. Skinner's side and to stand with his throat held hostage! Had there been another invisible man; had one of M's men taken the serum and used it against us already? Who had been shot?

I had lifted my hand and was about to blind the man when he said, "Make any move and I cut his throat!"

I recognized that man's voice…it was Mr. Reed! The man who had accompanied M whilst recruiting me for the league!

"Besides…I think you have other things to worry about than saving _him_." he said.

I did not know what he meant! That is, until, I looked down at my blood-stained dress.

A few minutes after Mr. Reed had taken away Tom, I fell to the ground putting my hand to where I had been shot, and Mr. Skinner panting and shaking impulsively, I had truly thought the two of us were to die there, and, because of me, Agent Sawyer would probably be dead too.

"We have to get out of here…" Mr. Skinner attempted to say. I had not even realized the room was still on fire. And then, we would soon be on fire as well.

I struggled to stand up, and attempted to help Mr. Skinner up as well. We had retreated out of the blazing room with success, and yet, as I looked at our deadly injuries—Mr. Skinner's burns and my shot wound, I soon realized that my light will eventually go out. And Mr. Skinner…well…he just might not be able to make it, either. We both looked as if we were about to greet death very soon.

And yet, we struggled to walk on.

It had never come across to me that the bombs would go off at this time. And they did.

The floor shook, and soon cracked as the walls began to crumble around us. Mr. Skinner fell to the floor with a painful grunt, and I slid across the floor and hit the wall, screaming in throbbing.

I had thought we were to be smashed apart by the falling buildings, when I heard a familiar voice.

"Siyana…Mr. Skinner!"

It was Mrs. Harker. Oh, good Lord she had found us!

"Oh my God…we have to get you two out of here and back to the ship's infirmary immediately!"

She grabbed hold of Mr. Skinner and me at each of her sides, and forced us to hurriedly pace for our lives out from under the crumbling ceilings and out from around the collapsing walls! Soon enough the bombs had stopped, but we were still not yet near the fortress's entryway in which we came in. The walls discontinued deteriorating, but yet we still had to be careful. I held onto my side to try and stop the bleeding, and yet I knew that would not have helped much.

Within time, enough pain and doubt, we had reached the main hall, where a few of Nemo's men were lingering. Captain Nemo, and a half-naked Dr. Jekyll shivering underneath a blanket, stood in the center, waiting for the rest of the league.

As soon as they caught sight of us, they came running (especially Dr. Jekyll) to Mina's side to help Mr. Skinner and I. Dr. Jekyll looked at the both of us, then to Nemo, then to Mina.

"What happened?" he asked.

Mina answered for us. "There was a room on fire in which I assume Mr. Skinner to be a victim of…and it seems as if Ms. Blair had been shot."

The doctor and Captain Nemo took immediate action. Taking Mr. Skinner, Doctor Jekyll helped him lay down onto a cloth, and wrapped him up good so the immediate cold will not shock his body to death. Captain Nemo and Mrs. Harker had me sit down as well, and some of Nemo's crewmen came over. The Captain had taken out his knife and, as I eyed him with eyes of fear, he tore open my dress at the spot where it had stained. He viewed the wound with fear and pity in his eyes, or so it seemed. He looked at me.

"The bullet doesn't seem to be all too deep." he said.

Well that's good, at least!

"I'll have to take it out."

Well that's not good at all!

Making a face to bear the pain that would soon come, I agreed to lie down and allow the Captain to tear away more of my dress. Closing my eyes and sensing the Captain's hesitation, I felt the pain like hell at my side. I screamed in terror, and could hear my shouts echo around the great hall.

I heard a 'ping' on the floor, and assumed it was the bullet hitting the floor. I soon heard Dr. Jekyll's voice.

"How's she doing?" he asked.

"I'm in pain, if that counts!" I barely screamed.

I viewed as the Doctor tore some cloth from his blanket, and wrap it to my side. It wasn't much, he said, but it had to hold until we could reach the Nautilus.

As Captain Nemo and Mrs. Harker helped me stand up, and Dr. Jekyll ran to once again check on Mr. Skinner, I saw in the distance Agent Sawyer. He was carrying a body.

"Tom…" I moaned.

As he came closer, I saw who it was exactly he was carrying.

He was carrying Allan Quatermain. Allan Quatermain is now dead!

"Oh, Good God…"

Captain Nemo first caught sight of this as well, and left me in Mina's arms as he ran off to Tom, and as Allan's body was set down, I saw the Captain's teary, sad eyes glare painfully at Tom. It was all just so saddening…

Mrs. Harker focused to my attention.

"Try and rest, Siyana. We'll reach the Nautilus' infirmary soon enough."

She did not even have to speak it, for I had nearly blacked out.

I awoke to the familiar ceiling of the Nautilus infirmary, as Mrs. Harker had promised. I got up, feeling a slight pain at my side, and soon looked down to see my blood-stained dress replaced with a cotton nightgown, and felt a lump underneath at where I had been shot. While I was out Dr. Jekyll must have cleaned and covered my wound.

I also wondered who changed my dress. I suddenly felt self-conscious.

I looked around, taking in my surroundings. And soon I realized—it was over. We had won (I assume). How could we have not?

And then I remembered that Allan was dead. And Mr. Skinner—where was he?

I soon came into view with Dr. Jekyll, who noticed I had awoken and told me to lie down and rest. When I asked where Mr. Skinner was, he told me "Skinner's in bad shape, but he'll live. We have him at the other side of the room, resting. When you passed out in Mongolia, Mina flew to the Nautilus to get some extra medical supplies for our journey back. We patched you and Skinner up as best as we could."

I had to ask him; "Who changed me out of my dress?"

He laughed. "Mrs. Harker did."

"Oh…where are we now?"

"We're in the middle of the Indian Ocean, heading for Kenya where we will dock and obtain some medical supplies we might need and once the league is healed, we'll attend Quatermain's funeral. He's to be buried in his beloved Africa." He attempted to smile on my behalf.

"Oh…"

And so, I lay back down to rest as best as I could.

Kenya, 1899

Before I knew it Mr. Skinner and I were back to normal, and the league hovered the grave of Mr. Allan Quatermain, the best one-shot hunter any of us have ever met. The heat beneath the African sun was warm compared to our horrors in Mongolia. The gloom that surrounded us seemed to go on forever, as we mourned our deceased colleague and friend. A tribal man chanted in an unfamiliar dialect whilst playing with a mound of fire. I wondered of the ritual's significance.

"Do you remember he swore Africa wouldn't let him die?" asked Mr. Skinner. "I wish the old boy had been right."

I contemplated that for a moment.

"So what's next?" asked Tom.

"I have long hidden away from the world. Now I wish to see it _anew_ as the century turns." said the Captain. He extended his arms to us. "You're all welcome to join me."

"We've all been hiding in one form of another." said Mina.

I knew exactly what Mrs. Harker was talking about. "I haven't seen the light of day in the longest time before all of this. I'm curious as to how the world really _has_ changed all these years." I said.

Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Skinner, and Agent Sawyer looked to me with curious eyes.

"The Nautilus awaits." said the Captain, giving his final suggestion.

"So who's coming?" said Tom.

And so, we all departed the grave of our fallen Allan.

The Captain bid his goodbye by putting his hands together and giving a bow.

"So long, old chap." said Mr. Skinner. He followed the Captain back to the ship as the rest of us said Goodbye and followed.

"Goodbye, Allan." said Dr. Jekyll.

"May you live in peace, Mr. Quatermain." I said, bowing my head.

"…_Goodbye._" said Mrs. Harker.

As I walked off in the distance, behind Captain Nemo, and Mr. Skinner and Dr. Jekyll, Mrs. Harker joined my side and in the background, I had heard a gun cock, and Agent Sawyer say quite lowly, "Thanks."

He joined us five as we departed the African scene and made way to the Nautilus. What lay ahead for me, I was not sure. But what Mrs. Harker said about being long hidden away from the world had me open my eyes to the reality this world had to offer. It was a mystery of what lay ahead in the future, for there is much more than fear, and terror, and betrayal.

There was adventure, and friendship, and bravery…and excitement.

I was ready to take on the world again…and, I was ready to light the way.

We had gotten only so far when we had spun around after hearing the impossible sound and saw the view, of a bolt of lightning strike Mr. Quatermain's grave. Confusion and abhorrence hit our faces.

What lay ahead was _indeed_ a mystery, because we were not to expect what had happened next.

…Africa had kept its promise.

(End.)


End file.
